


Unworthy of Love

by EP1



Series: Grace and the Seven Deadly Sins [1]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Bathing/Washing, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Canabalism?, Choking, Depression, Explicit Language, F/M, Fondling, Foreplay, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Near Death, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Nudity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut, Spoilers, Tags May Change, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:53:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 42,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23158108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EP1/pseuds/EP1
Summary: Devildom AU.Grace is almost three months into RAD exchange program. Due to her low self esteem, and poor body image she isolates herself from the residents of the House of Lamentation. Hurt by so many humans in the past, she finds it impossible to trust the words and actions of demons, even if they claim to have her best interest at heart.But, when matters get out of hand and the shit hits the fan, who will be the one she finally turns to and trusts? Who will she make her first pact with?Update:This story has multiple endings and then will progress into separate stories.Endings complete for:Belphie - continuation is started and is named Somethings Should Not Be Kept in an AtticBeel - continuation is started and is named One Taste is Not EnoughAsmo - continuation is started is named Not the Fun Kind of Menage a TroisSatan  - continuation is started and is named Buyer's RemorseLeviThis is my first attempt at writing fan fiction. Using characters that are not my own means the boy end up OOC with new abilities.Mature rating is for safety sake. Additional tags to be added as I go.
Series: Grace and the Seven Deadly Sins [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683712
Comments: 143
Kudos: 247





	1. Human Exchange Student

**Author's Note:**

> Whelp - I hit the button and there it is. Time to have a panic attack.  
> I know, sorry not much happening yet, but I needed to get the stage set.  
> Hope you stick around for the ride.

Tomorrow would be the last day of the third month of the inaugural RAD exchange program’s initial run and Lucifer was seated in Lord Diavolo’s office. Today they were going to discuss the results to date, as well as modifications to the program and recruitment process for the next year.

  
The cup of tea that Lucifer sipped on was perfectly brewed and one of his favourite blends but something was still leaving a foul taste in his mouth. Maybe it was the topic he was about to broach.

  
“My Lord, I think we need to discuss our human student,” Lucifer began.

  
“Solomon or Grace?” Diavolo asked, setting his own cup aside.

  
Lucifer considered Solomon’s humanity a mere technicality. His powers as a sorcerer and the demonic pacts he had forged gave him more in common with the denizens of Devildom than it did the humans he shared DNA with. “I am referring to Grace.”

  
“If you wish to get her evaluation out of the way first, by all means, we can start there,” Diavolo said with a smile.

  
“I think we should consider terminating her tenure early,” Lucifer said, also setting his cup to rest on the desk.

  
“And why would we do that?” the future king asked, a confused look on his face. “She is achieving passing marks in all her classes, is she not?”

  
Lucifer had to nod in agreement. Against the odds, yes the human girl was managing to pass all her classes despite having seemingly no aptitude for magic. Her theory scores managed to balance out her lack of ability to actually make most of the mystical elements function.

  
“She hasn’t had any altercations with any of the demonic or celestial beings that I am unaware of, has she?” Diavolo continued questioning.

  
“No, other than the few minor incidents in that first week before some of our dimmer brethren realized she was under the protection of myself and my siblings.”

  
“Speaking of your siblings, has she had any problems with any of them?”

  
“No,” Lucifer said again. If he was reading his siblings right, they seemed, for the most part, to be quite fond of the human. Except for Belpheghor of course, who if Lucifer had his way would never lay eyes on her fragile body.

  
“Then why would you wish to terminate her tenure here early?”

  
Lucifer paused before replying to his liege. The answer was, Grace did not seem happy. No, she didn’t cause any problems, but the girl was so withdrawn and solemn it worried him. In theory, her happiness had nothing to do with the success or failure of the program so Lucifer wasn’t sure how to present this information to Lord Diavolo.

  
Lucifer had watched her closely over the last months and observed how each of his siblings interacted with her. While Grace dutifully allowed Mammon to be her guardian and seemed to tolerate his nonsense with a smile, she only relied on him in the most minimal way. She seemed to enjoy the kitchen and had all but taken over the cooking which meant she spent much time with Beel, and yet Grace never accepted any of his invitations to watch his games. She spent hours in the library studying but had only a handful of conversations with Satan and he had been the one to initiate them each time. Though she shared a common interest in video games with Levi, Lucifer was sure she had never shared that information with his aquatic brother. Grace allowed Asmo to help her with clothing, but also rejected his invitations, never going out shopping or to the frequent parties he attended.

  
His own relationship with their human was almost nonexistent. Lucifer could taste her fear of him every time they were in the same room. How was he to improve her time here if his very presence made it worse? He could not even guide his brothers into helping the cause because she all but shunned their attention.

  
Her time in Devildom mainly consisted of her time at RAD, studying and sleeping. While she seemed to have made no enemies at the academy, it was also true that she had made no friends. Lucifer wasn’t sure that this was serving the purpose of actually strengthening their relationship with the human realm. Yes, that was an angle he could use to his advantage. This was how he could make Diavolo understand that it was best she return to her life on Earth.

  
As he tried to think of the most diplomatic way to phrase that thought, his lord spoke again. “Are you admitting that you made a poor choice?”

  
Lucifer bit back the words he was about to say. There was no way that he could make that admission. Even if it had been by chance that her file had ended up in his hands, Lucifer was not going to admit he made a mistake. “No, you are quite right my lord, she has done nothing to deserve ending her tenure here prematurely.”

  
There was an unreadable glimmer in Diavolo’s eyes and a slight smile on his lips at Lucifer’s response. “Then shall we move on to discussing the others?”

  
Lucifer nodded and picked up his tea. It had gone cold, but he forced down a sip anyway. There was still a bitter taste in his mouth.


	2. Breakfast with the Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a normal morning for Grace in Devildom.

Grace started her morning the way she usually did. She took a long hot shower and had a cry. It was the only place she felt safe letting the tears fall. Life had always been scary but the last few months had taken it to a whole new level. Before she was taking classes like psychology and sociology and now she had to learn things like potions and hexes. Instead of living in a dorm filled with cheerleaders and cool gamer chicks, she now lived with the demonic avatars of the deadly sins.

  
Were these demons hideous monstrous beasts? No, they usually wore the form of incredibly handsome and bewitching men. In fact, every creature she had ever met in the Devildom were stunningly gorgeous in at least one of their forms. Stepping out of the shower, Grace wiped the steam from the mirror and faced the reality once again that she was . . . Not.

  
She could hear her mother’s voice in the back of her head as she stared at her naked body. You could be so pretty if only you would lose a little weight. She had tried. God knows she had tried but no matter what she did, the weight she lost hunted her down and found her. It would settle back into place thickening her thighs, rolling over the top of her jeans, and making her upper arms look like if she flapped hard enough she would take flight.Grace stared at her reflections for a few more minutes, fixing the reality of her life in her mind. This was who she was. She was no raving beauty nor did she have great intellect. She was just some girl chosen at random for this metaphysical experiment. As kind or as sweet as the demons could seem, they were just acting on orders from their eldest brother. There was no point falling for it. Grace had been scarred her enough by broke trust in the past.

She took one more deep breath and then faked a smile. It was time to get ready for her day. She quickly dried herself with a towel and got dressed in her uniform. There was always the sting of a painful memory when she donned it. The one provided on her first day had not fit. If it hadn’t been for an emergency rescue from Asmodeus her that day would have been even more awkward as hard as that was to imagine. It was hard enough finding out you were enrolled in classes with demons, but doing it in a skirt that wouldn't zip and a blouse that wouldn't button would have been even worse.

  
Of course, now he seemed to think it was his job to dress her like a doll. Never in her life had she ever owned so many matching sets of bras and panties. Most of them stayed in her dresser unworn, just like the dresses he was certain she’d look good in.

  
Grace took one last look in the mirror and adjusted the matching ribbon. She looked as good as she ever did, which in her eyes was at best was passable. Her twilight blue eyes shone clear and held no traces of her tears and she had wrangled her warm chestnut hair into a bun. Despite multiple tries, one strand of hair refused to stay put. Grace grumbled at it but let it go. It was almost time. She forced her lips to smile, but her eyes stubbornly refused to get with the program.

  
She could hear Mammon coming down the hallway well before he got to her door. He threw it open without a knock and shouted. “Hey human! You ready? Don’t you dare make me late for breakfast!”

  
Her forced smile softened into a real one when she saw his face reflected in her mirror. There was a familiar cocky grin on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes. He ran a hand through his white hair, and tapped a foot impatiently, waiting for her answer.

  
Knowing that Mammon rarely respected any boundaries, and that included doors, Grace always made a point of being ready early. She glanced over her shoulder at him and nodded. “Ready.”

  
“Come on then,” Mammon said impatiently.

  
Grace picked up her book bag and walked to the door. Mammon looked down at her. “What’s with the hair?” he reached over and tugged at that stupid loose strand that had escaped from her bun.

  
She tried to swat his hand, but he was too fast for her. “Potions test this afternoon,” she replied. “Don’t need my hair accidentally becoming the secret ingredient.”

  
“Huh,” he commented as they started walking down the hall. “You actually ready for it? Cause if you need help reviewing we could get together at lunch and go over your notes.” There was a pause. “It would totally embarrass me if MY human failed the test.”

  
Before Grace could reply, there was snort behind them. “I wouldn’t take him up on that if I were you. Studying with him would probably drop your grade.”

  
She looked up and smiled at Satan, who was also heading to breakfast. Of all the brothers, he looked most like an angel to her. His elegant posture, gorgeous blond hair and those intense eyes would look right at home on the stained glass windows of a church. “Morning, Satan.” He could be quite intimidating but using his name in casual conversation occasionally made her want to giggle. A year ago she could have never imagined uttering the phrase: Satan, can you please pass me the remote?

  
Satan gave a small smile in greeting as he passed by both her and the sputtering Mammon. “See, he can’t even form a proper sentence, how can he help you with your test?”

  
“There you go, underestimating me again-“ Mammon started to say when he was interrupted again. This time by Levi.

  
“Pretty sure that last time you took potions they had to renovate the room,” Levi said, walking down the stairs not looking up from the game system in his hands. He looked slightly unkempt and his hair was mussed. Grace figured he must have stayed up last night to play the new DLC for the Seven Lords RPG. She was dying to start it but knew better than to boot it up the night before a big test.

  
As he passed by Grace, he winked one of his orange eyes at her.“Epic fail.”

  
“Guess he rolled a one on that skill check,” Grace said softly, but neither brother heard her because Mammon just kept on making excuses.

  
“That’s cause I was given substandard ingredients.” Mammon protested. “Totally not my fault.”

  
Grace started walking again. If they took much longer there wouldn’t be any breakfast left, and she really didn’t want to brave the cafeteria. Mammon never stopped talking and only fell silent as they took their seats. 

  
Asmo had offered to cook breakfast this morning when he realized she had a test today, and it was evident by the presentation of the food. He was the only one who took the time to make the pancakes into little hearts, and there was always an excess of whipped cream at any meal he made, whether it was appropriate or not.

  
Beel was already seated. By the depleted look of the platters in the centre of the table, he seemed to be on his second helping of breakfast. The orange-haired giant mumbled a greeting between mouthfuls but otherwise did not slow in his eating. Grace never understood how he could maintain that huge muscular form with the amount he constantly ate. She was more than a little jealous of that ability of his, as she put a minimal amount on her plate.

  
With Asmo in the kitchen, there was only one brother not accounted for. Lucifer’s seat was empty at the head of the table. Without his larger than life presence to fill the space the dining room actually felt a little bigger. Her gaze lingered on the chair for a few long moments before she returned it to her plate.

  
Satan seeing where her eyes had landed commented “He left early for a meeting with Diavolo. They are conducting a review of the exchange program to date, and sounds like they will be at it most of the day.”

  
Oh. Grace’s heart stopped a little. Lucifer terrified her, somehow even more than Diavolo did. He was the one who had commanded Mammon to care for her, and he was the one that reminded her of the expectations heaped on her. Survive the year at RAD, write a report and don’t embarrass him in front of the king to be. She thought back and tried to think if she had done anything wrong. He might be the avatar of pride but she was pretty sure his wrath would be terrifying. She swallowed hard and tried not to let the worry show on her face.

  
Suddenly, her hair tumbled free from her bun. With a startled squeak, she looked up and found Asmo with his fingers combing through her hair. For a moment she was caught in his eyes. They always looked both playful and hungry, and not with the same kind of hunger that Beel had. “Don’t go worrying our little kitten here, Satan” he chastised his brother then turned his attention back to her. “I’m sure the meeting is more about Solomon or Luke than you. So stop stressing and smile.” He swiftly fixed her hair, doing better in moments than she had managed with multiple tries in front of the mirror. Then he leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before taking his seat.

  
“Hey!” Mammon shouted from his seat. “Stop molesting my human! You know she doesn’t like to be handled.”

  
It seemed like that was the signal for the morning bickering to begin. Mammon was irritated with Asmo’s flirting. Asmo was annoyed that Beel didn’t even notice the little details he put into the plating of breakfast. Levi was trying to get back some of the money Mammon owed him. Given enough time each brother would likely find some reason to snark at another.

  
Other than the missing Lucifer, this was just a normal morning in her life in Devildom. Grace just quietly ate her food and listened to the din of noise. They would never admit it, but she could hear the affection under the rough words and agitated tones.   
A slice of bacon appeared on her empty plate, drawing Grace out of her reflection. She glanced up to see that Beel had stood up and had been in the process taking his dishes to the kitchen.

  
“You didn’t get any,” he said when she looked at him with a questioning glance. “You don’t eat enough protein.”

  
Grace’s first instinct was to say something negative about herself. Eating bacon would make her a cannibal, or that she had more than enough extra padding that she could get through the day without it. She didn’t though. One, she recognized that Beel giving up food was a big deal and didn’t want to insult the gesture and two, Asmo never let her say anything negative about herself. Of course, he was the avatar of lust and he would be able to find beauty anywhere he looked, even if he had to use a magnifying glass to find it with her.

  
“Thanks,” she said, picking it up with her fingers and taking a bite. Asmo had done a good job and the bacon was just right. It was hard to get bacon crisp but not burnt.

  
“So, the game today?” Beel asked. “You gonna come?”

  
Grace bought time by taking a second bite of the bacon before answering. She didn’t like going to school events unless she was forced too. Swallowing, she shook her head and gave him the same excuse as always. “Sorry, I’ve got to study.”

  
He looked sad at her response. “Kay then.” Beel took her empty plate as well and headed into the kitchen. Her heart trembled as little and she felt guilty. Then she reminded herself that he was probably only asking to be nice and not because he actually wanted her there.

  
“How dumb are ya?” Mammon asked suddenly. “Did we get a defective human or something? You are always studying.”

  
Various forms of laughter erupting from around the table. It was Satan who put their thoughts into words. “You? You are questioning someone else’s intelligence?”

  
“Didn’t our lovely princess get a better mark than you on the History of Imps exam last week?” Asmo asked, dipping a finger into the bowl of whipping cream.

  
“That’s cause I had a job the night before and didn’t get enough rest,” Mammon replied grumpily.

  
“So did I, but I did just fine.” Asmo then sucked the cream off his finger.

  
“It’s not a job unless you get paid for it, Asmo” Satan commented. “And you don’t have the willpower to charge for sex.”

  
Before things could descend even further into chaos, Grace reached out at touched Mammon’s arm. “Ready to walk me to school?”

  
The was a brief hint of a genuine smile on his lips before he replaced it with the usual one filled with bravado. He got up from the table and gave an exaggerated sigh. “I gotta go. Don’t want her to be late and all. Taking care of the human is such a pain in the ass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the positive feedback!


	3. Precautions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace might have thought high school and college were hard, but they had nothing on attending RAD.

Once Grace and Mammon arrived at the academy, she excused herself to freshen up.

  
“Seriously, we make this trip every day, how do you never go before we leave the house?” he grumbled. “Or do ya just have a fascination with the public johns?”

  
“It’s the only time I get any girl talk,” Grace lied.

  
“Ya? So what do you girls talk about in there?” He arched an eyebrow in curiosity.

  
“World domination,” she answered with a straight face.

  
“Seriously?” Mammon asked. The look on his face was priceless. Sometimes Mammon was just too guilable.

  
“Yes, total upheaval of the power structure of the Devildom. All men will be dead or slaves.”

  
Mammon frowned. “Not funny. A lowly human like you shouldn’t make fun of the Great Mammon.”

  
“Don’t worry, I’m planning on sparing you. I’m your human after all.” Mammon was to one she was most comfortable teasing. She wasn't sure if it was because they spend more time together with their walks back and forth to school or if it was because he was so often the target of his siblings that it was hard not to join in on the fun.

  
Grace lightly pushed on his chest directing him down the hall. “Just go. I have business to take care of before I go to class.”

  
“See you later then,” Mammon said. ‘That is if I’m not too busy.”

  
Grace made a noncommittal sound and waved a hand in farewell. She entered the bathroom, and despite her words to Mammon was relieved to find it empty. This one was a little out of the way and was usually empty at this time of the day.

  
No one bothered her under the watchful eye of Mammon or his brothers, but the majority of demons here were not happy to have humans in their midst and tolerated her only out of fear of displeasing Diavolo. Solomon didn’t have the same kind of problems Grace did. He had the power to protect himself. He also wasn’t living in the House of Lamentation and spending quality time with the most powerful and eligible bachelors of Devildom. The female half of any species was the most dangerous, and Grace’s very existence and circumstances that were beyond her control had painted a very big target on her back.

  
When the brothers weren’t watching things would happen. She was on her third set of textbooks as the first two were both ruined. Any notes she took during class had a twenty-five percent chance of making it through the day. Sometimes they just disappeared, sometimes they would be destroyed, and a couple times they were intact but now written in a language totally foreign to her. Her locker often had hateful graffiti on it but enchanted to be invisible if any of her protectors were around. Not to mention some of the obscene texts that came through her DDD. Apparently demon genitalia came in far more shapes and sizes here. The images themselves were less disturbing than some of what was they threatened to do to her with it.

  
Verbal and emotional harassment was one thing. She was used to that, in fact some of the humans in her past were more creative than the demons. However, the incidents that had totally shaken her had involved her food. At least on the mortal plane no one had tried to poison her. At least twice someone had messed with her meals when she’d been in the cafeteria. The first time, it had been Beel that had noticed that her salad was garnished with something toxic to humans. He had assumed that she had not known better, and spent a week teaching her about Devildom flora and fauna ensuring she knew what was safely edible for humans. The second time, Grace had noticed herself and silently disposed of the burger herself without drawing attention to it. Now she rarely ate anything that hadn’t been prepared by her own hands.

  
A part of her had wanted to confess the harassment to her housemates and let them take care of it. Lucifer had told them to protect her after all. Grace feared that course of action would drive her tormentors to fins even more subtle and cruel ways to harass her. Then there was the evil voice in the back of her head that suggested a far worse scenario. Maybe they already knew? It was possible that this was all part of the great experimental program, and they were waiting to see how much it would take to break the human. No, it was best to handle this on her own.

  
Bullies seemed to be the same regardless of species. Hiding behind the avatars wouldn’t solve her problem only make it worse. She had survived this far by minimizing the time spent with them at school, doing her best to not draw any additional attention to herself, and not making waves. She’d honed most of those skills in high school, skirting at the end of social circles and keeping her head down.

  
Of course, her life was actually on the line here and Grace had to come up with a few additional coping mechanisms. She opened the stall closest to the door and kicked the toilet lid down with her foot. She shrugged off her blazer and locked the door. Grace withdrew a small jar of lotion from her book bag. It had been a gift from Asmo who was always concerned with the condition of her skin. It smelled pleasant, and Asmo smiled whenever he could smell the fragrance on her. He did not know that she had used the knowledge she gained from potions class and the many hours cooking to add a few new ingredients.

  
In theory, no one would lay hands on her at school, but she wasn’t willing to bet her life on it. The lotion would cause a rash on any demon who touched her skin, and should they be dumb enough to take a bite it would be toxic. Grace figured if she was going to go down than she’d do as much damage on the way out as possible. At least someone who figure who had got her in the end.  
It was only precautionary and she only used it when at the academy, since the brothers didn’t touch her often here as they knew it made her uncomfortable in public. Grace was grateful that the scent Asmo had chosen masked her additions so well. Once it was absorbed into her skin, she moved onto the second precaution.

  
Sitting down on the lid, she withdrew a small compact from her bag. Snapping it open she locked eyes with her reflection. Grace didn’t advertise that she had succeeded in more than the theoretical studies of magic. Having no natural ability for it, there wasn’t much she could do, but she still chose to hide even her minor successes. It took great effort but she could cast very small enchantments.

  
“Non videbis me,” Grace whispered, putting all her focus on her reflection. A familiar tingling settled on her skin. It almost itched but that meant that it was working. Someone with actual power could probably make themselves invisible with those words, but all she could manage was to be less visible. As long as she didn’t do anything to draw attention to herself or the person wasn’t specifically looking for her most people would not notice her. Oh, what she would have given to know how to do this years ago, but better later than never.

  
While she had the compact out, she quickly touched up her make up. She managed to give herself a little smile in the mirror. She was as prepared as she was going to be. She chuckled to herself as she put her compact and lotion back in the back. To think that once upon a time she had thought high school was hell. That was a walk in the park compared to a day at RAD. She slid on her blazer, adjusted her ribbon, then took one more breath to steel her nerves. Whether she was ready or not, it was time to start her day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you google translate for the mangled latin spell.  
> "do not see me"


	4. Beautiful and Deadly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two humans alone in a garden. What could go wrong?

Lunch found Grace eating the meal she had packed in the greenhouse that served to grow most of the spell components. It was the place that was the most like home she had found down here in Devildom. There was enchanted light that mimicked sunlight and there were even a few normal plants to be found here. Once she had finished the sandwich Grace perched on the brick ledge of one of the flower beds and closed her eyes and basked in the warmth.

  
Her DDD beeped, and she reluctantly opened her eyes. It wasn’t the usual messenger, it was the app that paired with the Seven Lords game. A genuine smile lit up her face and she logged in.

  
 **L3V1:** Have you conceded defeat to my absolute superiority?

 **H3NR1:** Never!

 **L3V1:** You didn’t log in last night. That’s an insult to my beloved game! You lack dedication and true commitment!

 **H3NR1:** Just giving you a head start ;)

  
Levi had no idea that she played the game and Grace liked it that way. Under her gamertag, she could be the most herself. The world of the game was something she could control, unlike her daily situation. She could say and do what she wanted without any fear of retribution. In that game, she wasn’t some helpless human that needed protection. She was H3NR1, the Paladin, and the thorn in Levi’s side who snagged the Gauntlet of Animosity out from under his nose. She enjoyed their friendly rivalry immensely and hoped he did too. Not that she could tell if he did. The demon spent more time hiding in his room than she did in hers and that was saying something.

  
 **L3V1:** I will crush you! Prepare to meet a painful and epic defeat! I’ve already cleared the Plateau of Despair and have almost completed the Silver Raven Armour set!

  
Damn, no wonder he looked so beat this morning. Levi must have gotten no sleep at all.

  
 **H3NR1** : The only important word in that sentence is “almost”.

 **L3V1:** There is no way you are going to catch up to me!

 **H3NR1:** Didn’t you say that you missed out on getting the Ultra Master Demon Deluxe Box Set? ;)

  
Grace watched the little thought bubble icon pop up as he typed a reply. Then he must have changed his mind, deleted it and typed something else.

  
 **L3V1:** You didn’t!!! There were only 50 of those released!

  
Grace chuckled. Yes, she did. Lucifer had asked her what she had wanted for successfully surviving the first month of the program, and that’s what she had asked for. Grace knew for certain that Levi had missed out due to Mammon ‘borrowing’ his younger brother’s credit card. His anger and disappointment had been very vocal. In fact, it had been his main contribution to conversation at breakfast for almost a solid week.

  
 **H3NR1:** :p I totally did. Triple XP for the first two weeks after release and I get the limited addition Neapolitan Ice Cream armour set which totally buffs my character against the new breed of imps that spawn in the Plateau of Despair.

 **L3V1:** Grrrr.

Grace giggled as she pictured the look on his face. Mammon might have a black eye by supper time. Her fingers bounced lightly on the screen as she continued to add fuel to the fire.

  
 **H3NR1:** So I think by the weekend I will totally be on the Cliffs of Defiance, and be able to continue to own your ass in PVP.

 **L3V1:** That’s not fair.

 **H3NR1:** Life’s not fair princess. Suck it up.

  
“I don’t think I’ve seen that smile before.”

  
A voice startled her, and she set her DDD down face down. Grace looked up to see Solomon standing only a few steps away. Shit, she really should be paying more attention. The warm light made his silvery hair almost glow, and he looked at her with curiosity.  
“I’m sure you’ve seen me smile before,” Grace replied.

  
“But, not that smile. That one actually reached your eyes.” Solomon sat down next to her, riding the fine line between too close and polite distance. “You know in this light they almost look purple.”

  
Grace quickly lowered her eyes. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  
It would be reasonable to assume that being the only two humans here would have given them common ground, but Grace found him as unnerving as the demons. She wished it was as simple as she was jealous of the power he had, but deep down it wasn’t that. As much as a mouse recognized the danger of a cat, or a guppy feared a shark, Grace’s gut told her he was as much a predator as anyone here.

  
“You know, I miss it too,” Solomon said, closing his eyes and tilting his head up to enjoy the warmth.

  
Grace wondered if that was actually true or if he was just trying to put her at ease. If it was meant to do the latter, he had miscalculated. The silence between them stretched a little awkwardly, but she refused to break it. She was a little resentful that he had managed to interrupt what little peace she had found today.

  
Without opening his eyes, he spoke again. “You’re frowning now.”

  
“Maybe I’m worrying about the test.” She said. That would be a safe topic. They did share the same Potions class, after all. “I think the brewing portion is going to call for Angel’s Trumpet. It’s tricky to work with and I’m not that comfortable with it.”

  
Solomon opened his eyes and glanced her way. “It’s not so bad, you just need to make sure to use a light touch. I can show you if you like.” The tone in his voice suggested that the light touch he’d like to show her had nothing to do with potion-making.

  
If she hadn’t been frowning before she was now. Why must they all say things like that? Was it mandatory to make everything into a sexual innuendo? Was it a class she had yet to take? If so, Grace knew she was going to fail it.

  
Grace rose to her feet and stepped over to where the flowers in question were growing to casually put some more distance between them. Several large pots held thick shrubs dripping in colourful flowers. Unlike most flowers, they didn’t seem to reach toward the light but instead, the flared flowers pointed toward the ground. “A light touch might work with powdered but I think we might be using fresh.” She gestured to where it looked like blooms were recently harvested.

  
Solomon stood and closed the distance between them. He stopped next to her, again closer than she would have liked. She fought the urge to retreat further. “Is that what brought you to the greenhouse today? Trying to get a leg up on the test?”

  
She didn’t answer his question. Her motives were her own and none of his business. Instead, she asked one of her own. “Did you know that they aren’t native to Devildom?”

  
“Yes,” Solomon answered, turning to look her in the eye.

  
“Sometimes I need to remind myself that not all beautiful and deadly things began their life down here. Some were brought down here by demons.”

  
For a moment Grace wasn’t sure how he was going to react. There was an intense look in his eyes, those blue eyes with flecks of gold. She couldn’t read them. Grace bit the inside of her lip and cursed that her irritation had overridden her sense of caution. The moment passed, and he chuckled warmly. “My dear Grace, I do believe that is the first time you’ve given me a compliment.”

  
At that moment both of their DDD’s buzzed, giving the ten-minute warning for class. She gladly took the excuse to step away from him and gather her belongings. He insisted on escorting her to class and she had no reason to refuse since they were both taking the same test. But as he matched his pace to hers, Grace wondered which part he had taken as a compliment. The beautiful or the deadly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angel's trumpet is an actual species of poisonous flower, though it is now extinct in the wild.


	5. The Difference Between Slugs and Mealworms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out that the potion's test was not what Grace needed to be worried about.

Grace and Solomon were the last to enter the classroom. The other students were chattering among themselves. Some were frantically quizzing each other in a desperate attempt to cram enough knowledge in their skulls before the class started while others used the time for idle gossip or flirting. It could almost be mistaken for any high school class she had taken. Until you noticed that many of the students had diverse skin tones in every imaginable shade in the rainbow and textures unseen on humans. The gossip sounded familiar and normal until the odd hiss or chirp punctuated the conversation.

  
“Did you see that selfie Beel posted on Devilgram this morning?” Xantara asked her friends. They all made hungry sounds of acknowledgment. “What I wouldn’t give to run my tongue over those abs.”

  
One of the friends snorted, “As if you’d stop at the abs, slut.”

  
Grace made sure to give that work station a wide berth. That demoness was the epitome of the mean girl stereotype and one of Grace’s more vocal tormentors. She had a thing for Beel and Asmo. Ok, she probably had a thing for every one of the avatars. She could give Levi a run for his money in the envy department. The girl hated the fact that Grace slept under the same roof as the student council.

  
Grace didn’t think she had anything Xantara should be envious of. The demoness’ skin was a light shade of green and she had the most stunning eyes that hypnotically shifted between different colours. Her long black hair was worn in a high ponytail, with an intricate braid obscuring any hair elastics or any other styling tools. There were delicate scales that started behind her ears and followed the curve of her neck. The pattern continued down under her uniform and along her body accentuating all of her perfect curves. Her lips were full and plump, and though Grace was not particularly into her own gender, even she could admit they looked thoroughly kissable.

  
She glanced down at her own body and suddenly were much felt like an overstuffed sausage walking on two legs. Luckily the bell rang before she could dwell on it for too long, and she took her seat. Solomon wished her luck before claiming his chair near the back of the class.

  
The classroom looked very similar to the chemistry labs on Earth with a few key differences. Sure, there were cauldrons, and actual live fires, but the ingredients were meticulously stored in glass containers that were clearly labelled and dated according to freshness. Except for the ‘live’ ones kept in cages at the back of the class. Grace felt very lucky that she hadn’t had to use those yet. She wasn’t sure how she would feel adding something into the caldron that could look at her and whimper.

  
The written part of the exam passed quickly and Grace had no trouble with it. Her hours of studying had paid off, and she was sure if she really applied herself she could be near the top of the class on this one. But, she didn’t want to make waves, so intentionally answered three of the questions wrong. She waited until about half the class had handed in their papers before getting out of her seat to do the same.

  
Onto the practical part. Today’s test was not only challenging one’s ability to brew but the ability to think on your feet. There were three ingredients she had to use. The Angel’s Trumpet, as she had accurately guessed, Coarse Centaur Hair, and Curdled Bat Milk. The objective was to use those and any other ingredients available from the classes’ inventory to make a potion that would paralyze the target. The final grade would be weighted on the effectiveness of the potion and the appropriateness of the complimentary ingredients chosen.

  
Some of the other students' dove right in, almost seeming to grab things at random, but Grace took her time and thought out her options. By the time she had risen from her seat, many cauldrons were already bubbling away.

  
“Professor?” a timid voice called from the front row. It was Darwin, a small aquatic demon who was consistently in the bottom third of the class. “Is it supposed to turn this colour?” The instructor hurried to the station and quickly pulled the cauldron from the fire and started lecturing the poor boy on safety. Her heart gave a little pang of sympathy as she watched the demon’s gills flutter in embarrassment.

  
Xantara and her friends used this as an excuse to get back to their conversation, and Grace kept her head down as she passed them to go to the storage shelves. She ran her eyes over the labels. Powered Dragonfly. Singed Heartwood. Albino Slugs. Oh yes, the slugs would work. Grace snagged them from the shelf and was about to turn away when she noticed that someone had taken Ivory Mealworms. That was bad, really bad. Sure they looked like the Albino Slugs when they were dried and powdered like this, but they would create a toxic gas when combined with the mandatory ingredients. The result wouldn’t just endanger the humans in the room but would be poisonous to the demons as well.

  
She quickly scanned the room and tried to spot who had taken the worms. Just her luck, the vial was sitting on Xantara’s desk. Grace took a deep breath and slowly started to make her way back to her own station. The teacher would catch the mistake. Grace didn’t have to get involved. However, the teacher’s full attention seemed to be on Darwin, explaining what he had done wrong, and how to rectify it.

  
Out of the corner of her eyes, Grace saw Xantara opened the vial. Surely she wasn’t going to freehand pour it? Another frantic glance in the professor’s direction. No, he was not going to notice in time. Valuing her ability to breath, Grace took three decisive steps and slapped the ingredient from her bully’s hands before any of it could make it into her potion. The container fell to the ground and shattered. Grace felt the itching on her skin disappear as every eye in the room turned toward them. Going unnoticed just went out the window.

  
“How dare you?” Xantara hissed rising from her chair. “What the fuck do you think you are doing you insignificant waste of space?” She was majestic in her fury and stood a full foot above Grace’s height. “Are you trying to sabotage my test?”

  
For a moment Grace stood silent, intimidated by the sight, then she swallowed the lump in her throat and spoke firmly. “You can’t use those!”

  
“I can’t? You think you can tell me what to do? You?” She hissed again, her forked tongue peeking out from between her lips.

  
“You put those in your cauldron and you are going to poison everyone in this room!” Grace said firmly.

  
“You think you know better than me? I don’t need advice on anything from a stupid human like you.” Xantara sneered and pulled back her arm to strike out at Grace. “I think you need to be taught a lesson about interfering with your betters.”

  
Closing her eyes, Grace gritted her teeth and braced herself for the blow. It didn’t come.

  
“How about you take advice from a smart human then?”

  
Grace opened her eyes to see that Solomon had grabbed the demoness’ hand in mid-air.

  
“Or are you going to try to say I don’t know what I’m talking about?” Solomon’s voice was calm, but his eyes were cold. “Grace is right. Combining those ingredients would poison us all and I don’t know about you but I’m rather fond of breathing.”

  
Solomon released her arm and smiled. “But, if you refuse to take the advice of either of us lowly humans, perhaps you might listen to our professor?” The instructor had just arrived drawn to the commotion and quickly surveyed the situation. “Sir, would you recommend adding Ivory Mealworm to a mixture that already contains both Coarse Centaur Hair and Angel’s Trumpet?”

  
The instructor paled momentarily but swiftly regained his composure. He ordered everyone to their seats, and the practical part of the test was suspended. The next fifteen minutes were dedicated to him thoroughly chastising Xantara for her inattention nearly injuring the entire class. An angry flush warmed her green skin but she kept her mouth shut. The teacher then turned to the board to review basic safety protocols, and the serpentine demoness turned angry eyes on Grace.

  
A shiver crept up her spine, and her breath caught in her throat. Grace knew this wasn’t over, not by a long shot. Her hands wanted to shake but she held them still by sheer willpower. Xantara was not going to get the satisfaction of seeing her afraid.  
Once the class ended, Grace darted from the room. She ignored Solomon calling after her and put as much distance as she could between her and the angry demoness. Not showing fear was one thing, but actively sticking around to be the target of Xantara’s wrath was another thing. It was definitely time to make herself scarce.


	6. A Text Would Have Been Sufficient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solomon chooses to alert Asmo to the situation between Grace and Xantara.

Asmodeus was enjoying a quiet interlude with a rather obliging feminine friend of his named Yvettia in the library. He did take a little pleasure in knowing that Satan would definitely disapprove of him using the library for purposes other than the pursuit of knowledge. It was just so convenient however and the older sections provided a lovely opportunity for solitude if that was what he desired in the moment.

  
While he had a spare period and probably could have gone home, he felt this was a much better use of his time. He tangled his fingers in her hair that looked of molten gold and nibbled on her ear gently. The breathy moan of pleasure she uttered put a smile of his lips. 

  
“Hush darling, remember we are in the library. One must be quiet.”

  
He lightly traced his fingers her ribs on the outside of her shirt and then slipped them deftly underneath the fabric to tease the smooth skin of her stomach.

  
Asmo had considered briefly skipping the remainder of his classes and returning home but then had remembered that his last remaining class was PE and that it was the only class he shared with Grace. As he kissed his way along his partner’s jawline, he wondered how his favourite human’s potions test had gone.

  
**“Asmodeus”**

  
Asmo sighed inwardly, wondering what Solomon could possibly want right now. Whatever it was, he was sure it could wait. He hungrily claimed the lips of the demoness in front of him and made up his mind to ignore the sorcerer.   
His hands slowly climbed up her body, until they cradled her generous breasts. He delighted in how firm and heavy they were in his hands. He thumbed a nipple through the thin fabric of her bra and she gasped aloud and then bit her lip to stifle the sound.

  
**“Asmodeus!”**

  
Solomon called a second time, and Asmo could feel him put more force behind the summoning. It seemed like ignoring him was not going to be an option. Asmo gently sucked on her lower lip as he regretfully pulled away. “This is terribly impolite of me, but I’m afraid that I must leave.”

  
He was quite lucky that she was not of Gorgon descent or else the glare she gave him with those emerald green eyes might have been indeed fatal.

  
“Darling, I promise I will make this up to you. Tonight, with a bottle of wine and hours of my undivided attention?” She looked skeptical and didn’t answer.

  
“I know, leaving you like this goes against everything I believe in as a gentleman.” As he spoke, he regretfully removed his hands under her shirt. He helped to fix the uniform that he had helped muss and once he was done he pulled her tight against his body, and then whispered in her ear, “But trust me, I will more than make this up to you.”

  
The demoness slid her hand up into his hair and pulled him in for another kiss which she ended with a bite to his lower lip that drew blood. “You better,” she said in warning, pulling her body away from him.

  
“Darling, I am a demon of my word, especially when it comes to my signature sin. I promise, after tonight I’ll have to carry you home because you won’t be able to walk.”

  
“I’ll hold you to that,” Yvettia said, turning and walking away. She liked to wear her uniform skirt short and he caught tantalizing glimpses of her underwear as she left him behind.

  
**“Asmodeus!”**

  
There was impatience and a curt tone to the summoning this time. Solomon was going to have to pay for this. What could be so important that he couldn’t communicate it in a text? If the man was not broken, bleeding and dying, he was about to be.

Grumbling he teleported to Solomon’s side.

  
“What?!” Asmo demanded in an irritated voice. He looked around and saw that Solomon was sitting in the empty potions classroom.

  
“Hello is a more traditional and polite greeting,” Solomon replied.

  
“What have you summoned me for?” Asmo asked. “Is your life in some sort of jeopardy? Are you dying?”

  
“Its a rather good thing I am neither since it took you so long to respond to my summons,” Solomon said in an amused tone. “Did I draw you away from something urgent?” Then his eyes slid down Asmo's to the obvious bulge in his uniform pants. “Ah, please extend my sincerest apologies to the lady-“ he paused, “or was it gentleman in question?”

  
“Solomon, do not further try my patience. I repeat why have you summoned me?”

  
The teasing smile left Solomon’s lips. “There was an incident in class and I worry that Grace may be in trouble.” Solomon briefly relayed the events of the potions class. “I tied to track her down between classes but she was nowhere to be found. I suspect Xantara will seek retribution and thought it would be best if you were warned.”

  
“Grace is perhaps the only person more familiar with the hidden corners of the academy than I,” Asmo said quietly. He was not fond of Xantara, while she had been fun to play with she had a rather undesirable streak of jealously that irked him. “Did you think to inform any of the others about this? Mammon or Lucifer perhaps?”

  
“Mammon is an idiot and likely to only make the situation worse. I can easily picture him running up and down the halls bellowing for her and bringing even more attention to the situation. I cannot imagine what possessed Lucifer to assign him as her guardian.” Solomon shook his head. “As for Lucifer, I would not dare to interrupt him while he is in a meeting with Lord Diavolo.”

  
Asmo agreed with both assessments. “If I remember her schedule right, I think she had history this period. She likely found a quiet place to hide and ducked into the class at the last moment. I share her last class of the day. She will be okay.” He put more confidence in his voice than he felt at that moment.

  
Solomon rose to his feet and moved to leave the room. “Then I will leave the situation in your capable hands. I am late for my own studies.”

  
“Solomon,” Asmo called out as the human reached the door. “Why did you summon me instead of using your DDD?”

  
“Because I could,” Solomon replied with a smug smile and then he left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this was pretty much self indulgent on my part, and in my head Solomon would totally be that kind of prick.


	7. Is It Still Called a Cat Fight if One of Them is Part Serpent?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain female demon does not handle humiliation well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic Violence warning. Demons do not fight nice.

Grace sat through the history lesson and didn’t catch a single word of the lecture. She kept glancing down at the screen on her DDD and watching the minutes pass far too slowly. There was only one more class left after this, and then Grace was sure she would be okay. Why did that class have to be PE?

  
Taking physical education on earth had been bad enough. Being bad at sports wasn’t even the worst part of it. Neither was the fact she was always picked last for any team. No, the thing she hated most about high school physical education was the communal showering in the locker rooms. It had made her feel vulnerable and ashamed of who she was. That had been a chapter of her education she had been more than willing to leave behind when she started college.

  
She should have known that somehow Devildom could take something so horrible and make it even worse. Physical Education had an entirely different meaning here. Oh, there was still the incredibly awkward and confidence shattering public showering. However, you didn’t need to change your clothes because they were going to get sweaty, and you didn’t need to shower so you didn’t smell. No, here you changed so your clothes didn’t get ruined by the blood and other bodily fluids.

  
Physical Education was the class that taught demons and demonesses all the vulnerable parts of the human body and how to exploit them. It was a study of how to bring about the full spectrum of both pain and pleasure to those you might wish to torment. Fortunately, no humans are actually harmed in the process of the class. All practice was done on soulless homunculi but that really didn’t make it any less disturbing.

  
She glanced down at the DDD again. How had only two minutes passed?

  
This semester they were covering the pain spectrum. She shuddered as she remembered the entire class they had spent last week on how to properly remove an eyeball without popping it while keeping the subject alive. As horrible as that was, she was dreading next semester when they moved on to the pleasure portion of the curriculum. There were definitely things she did not want to do with an audience and an instructor critique.

  
The only bright spot was that Asmo shared the class with her. He shouldn’t be since PE was usually divided by gender, but he was taking it a second time as an elective. He was determined to prove in an official capacity his mastery of both the male and female forms. While he didn’t seem to enjoy this portion of the course, Asmo was shockingly adept at it. In his words, pain and pleasure were two sides of the same coin and understanding one would only increase your understanding of the other.

  
She would have expected words like those from Lucifer or maybe Satan. They had seemed out of character to her coming from the Asmodeus who liked to paint her nails and gently brush her hair. It was a reminder that as hedonistic and sometimes harmless he seemed that Asmo was as much a demon as the rest.

  
Today Grace wouldn’t complain if he was a little bit scary. Though less than an hour had passed since the Potion’s class had ended, word of the confrontation between her and Xantara had spread. She could see the other students glancing at the DDD’s and then looking at her. As much as she didn’t want to hide behind anyone, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have someone scary on her side in a classroom that came equipped with flails and flechettes.

  
By the time the bell rang, Grace was ready to go. Her notes had been stowed in her bag before the last sixty seconds started to tick down. She was the first out of the class, and she took the back hallways to get to her destination.

  
She stopped in her tracks when she saw Asmo with Xantara. He had her pressed against the wall, with one hand firmly on her waist. His mouth was close to her ear, and there was a wicked smile of the demoness’ lips. She reached up and traced a finger along his jawline. Grace didn’t want to know what he was saying to make her look like that.

  
Her heart lurched a little, and she couldn’t watch anymore. She quickly took a few steps back and ducked into a different hallway. Her eyes stung a little and she blamed it on the dust on this out of the way path because she couldn’t be stupid enough to be hurt by this, could she? She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and opened the door to the locker room.

  
Grace locked herself into one of the bathroom stalls. She hung her bag on the back of the door, and sat on the toilet lid and drew her feet up to her chest. Originally, her plan had been to get changed as quickly as possible and be in the classroom under the teacher’s watchful eye and sitting at Asmo’s side. Now, she wanted to spend as little time with him as possible. He was the social butterfly of the group, surely he had heard part of the story by now. Why was he with her?

  
So she decided to hide in silence, and change once the other girls with done. As she bided her time, Grace checked her messages. There was one from Satan asking how the test had gone. There were several from Mammon, alternating between complaining that she didn’t track him down to go over her notes, and being relieved that she hadn’t since he was very busy and it would have been a pain in the ass anyway. There was one from Beel worrying whether she’d eaten lunch because he hadn’t seen her in the cafeteria. Then another reminding her that she was still welcome to come to the game. There was also one from Asmo, but she didn’t open it.

  
She listened as all the other girls gossiped and got ready for class. The conversation was dominated by the events of the Potion’s class. As with all things gossip related, the story had grown wilder and more convoluted as made its rounds. Some people thought that Xantara had actually tried to poison Grace, while others heard that Grace had switched the labels on the ingredients to make Xantara look bad.

  
Eventually, the room grew silent and Grace lowered her feet to the floor. She opened the door and stepped out into the main area. She unlocked her locker, and almost jumped when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

  
“Thought you could hide?”

  
There was no mistaking Xantara’s voice. Grace turned slowly, to face her. The demoness was standing at her full height, and Grace could tell just how pissed she was because the fine leathery wings she usually kept hidden were free and moving in agitation.

  
“I’m expected in class,” Grace stated instead of answering the question.

  
“They won’t miss you. I’ve made sure of that.” Xantara’s lips spread into a grin, exposing slightly pointed fangs. “Ari glamoured one the homunculi to look like you. No one will notice the difference since you are both useless lumps of meat.”

  
Grace swallowed hard. “You don’t want to do this.”

  
“Oh, I very much want to do this.” She took a step closer and extended a hand. She traced one very long sharp nail under Grace’s chin.

  
“I’m warning you don’t touch me,” Grace said quietly.

  
“Who is going to stop me? No one is here to protect you and no one is coming to save you.”

  
“I said, don’t touch me,” she repeated. Grace wasn’t expecting the cavalry to ride in. She had always known in the end she would be alone.

  
“Wait, do you actually think you can stop me? It would be kinda cute if it wasn’t so very pathetic.” She added just a touch of pressure, enough to cut the skin but not enough to draw blood. “You’ve forgotten your place, my dear. You are nothing more than food. What are the lowly beasts you humans eat?” She pretended to think about it. “That’s right, cows. That’s what you are. A plump, juicy cow. Come on cow, can you moo for me?”

  
Though her entire body was trembling, Grace held her head up and stayed silent. She was not going to give this bitch the satisfaction.

  
“Maybe standing on two legs is giving you ideas. Cows walk on fours, don’t they?” Xantara grabbed Grace by the hair and yanked her forward. Grace cried out a little in pain as her knees impacted roughly with the cold tile floor. Xantara still held Grace’s hair in an iron grip and tilted her head up in an uncomfortable angle. Xantara’s eyes glowed a little as she added a little compulsion to the next command. “Come on cow, I said moo for me.”

  
Grace could feel the weight of her magic, and purposefully bit the interior of her cheek. She used the pain to fight through it. When she opened her mouth it was not to obey. “Fuck you.”

  
Xantara growled and released her hold on Grace’s hair. She mercilessly stomped on Grace’s back. It knocked all the air from her lungs and she gasped for breath. The sharp tip of her attacker’s heel punctured her skin. Grace wanted to cry out in pain, but she didn’t have the air to do so.

  
Frustrated, Xantara began to pace, ranting as she did so. “What do they see in you?” she growled, kicking Grace in the ribs. “Lord Diavolo and this ridiculous experiment of his is bullshit. There is nothing to be learned from food. You eat it and then you shit it out. End of story.”

  
Grace weakly tried to crawl away, but the attempt only earned her another swift kick. Xantara then stopped and cocked her head staring at Grace’s prone form. The demoness’ features softened a little as she crouched down beside Grace and said in a too-sweet voice. “I’m sorry. You were finally learning to walk on all fours. I shouldn’t punish you for that.” She reached out and gently cupped Grace’s face.

  
Immediately that hand started to burn, and a rash reddened Xantara’s skin and small dry cracks spidered along her flesh. Grace smiled darkly, she’d never seen her lotion actually at work before and the results were more impressive than she could have hoped. The laugh that escaped her lips was more than a little manic.

  
“How did you do that?” Xantara hissed as she pulled back.

  
“I thought you had nothing to learn from food,” Grace said weakly, her breathing laboured. “You eat it and shit it out, right?”

  
Xantara looked at Grace. “You know I was just going to teach you a little lesson, but I think its time for you to go. I’m so very glad I’ve got an alibi in place. I’m going to make a nice meal out of you.” She looked dismissively at Grace’s plump form. “Honestly, there’s probably enough I could bring leftovers for lunch. Maybe I should make a meatloaf for Beel. Do you think he'd like that?”

  
Grace braced herself, as Xantara leaned over and sank her fangs into her shoulder. The pain was worse than she had expected, and she screamed as the demoness pulled back tearing a chunk free. Then Grace’s scream dissolved into laughter, terrible, horrible, bitter laughter.

  
Xantara looked at her with wide eyes, not understanding at first what was happening.

  
“You fucking, stupid bitch,” Grace gasped, sliding away from her attacker. “You burned your hand touching me and you thought you could take a bite?” Tears rolled down Grace’s cheeks, but the laughter wouldn’t stop.

  
Xantara clutched at her throat, it was already swelling. There was a sickly green foam forming on her lips.

  
Grace forced herself to a sitting position, trying not to see the trail of blood she had left on the floor. Her hands were shaking so badly that it took her four tries to untie her ribbon.

  
Xantara reached out toward her, but Grace was just a finger length too far.

  
“You want to know how I did it?” Grace asked. “You really want to know?”

  
Xantara tried to croak out words but she was having a hard enough time breathing that speech was impossible.

  
Grace used her ribbon as a makeshift bandage to slow the bleeding on her shoulder. It was an awkward attempt and not very successful between her shaking limbs and the maniacal laughter she couldn’t stop. “Listen closely, it's a lesson you don’t want to forget. That is if you survive it.” She crawled closer, still cautious because though her opponent was down, Grace didn’t think she was out for the count. The smile Grace gave her fallen foe was full of spite and malice. She softly whispered, “The secret ingredient is Ivory Mealworm.”


	8. Unblinking Eyes and Retribution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asmo realizes that it isn't Grace in the classroom.

Asmodeus slipped into the PE classroom a few minutes after the bell and he could smell fire and heated metal. That’s right, the topic of today’s class was going to be about branding irons. The instructor had already started her lecture and was outlining the basics of temperature, how to gauge it by observation of the metal and how the varying degrees of heat damaged the flesh.  
He slipped onto the bleacher next to Grace, and greeted her softly, “Hey princess, miss me?”

  
Grace didn’t answer him, just stared ahead at the lecture in progress.

  
Asmo pouted, “Not even going to say hello? What have I done to deserve you withholding even the most basic of your affection?” She said nothing, seemingly ignoring him. “Not even a little smile. I’m a man in the desert and without the sweet nectar of your smile I will surely die.”

  
Damn, she didn’t even roll her eyes at that one. Maybe teasing was the wrong approach.

  
“You know, I heard about earlier. Grace, are you doing okay?” He asked. She didn’t answer and he reached over and tugged at a lock of her hair. “You can talk to me about it, you know.”

  
“Asmodeus!” the teacher called from the front of the classroom. “It was bad enough that you chose to arrive late for my class but now you are actively trying to distract a fellow student. Get down here. You are going to assist me in demonstrating how to apply a clear brand.”

  
“Madam-“ Asmo began with a charming smile.

  
“Now Asmodeus, or else you will be what I demonstrate on!”

  
“Of course, I would never dream, of declining a woman’s invitation.” Hiding his irritation behind a charming smile and a playful wink, Asmo smoothly rose to his feet. He squeezed Grace’s shoulder before descending to the front of the class. “I am yours to do with as you will.”

  
He obediently complied with the professor's instructions flawlessly executing the techniques she demanded of him, but his mind was on Grace. Had he done something wrong that she was suddenly giving him the cold shoulder? Was she just that upset and worried about what happened in potions? He kept looking in her direction, but she just seemed to be staring blankly off into space.  
Was she in shock? Humans could be terribly fragile emotionally and the strangest things could tip them past their breaking point. He blinked and as he did so a realization hit him. In the entire time that he had been watching her from his position at the front of the class, Grace had not blinked. Not once. Whatever was sitting there, wasn’t Grace.

  
He needed to find her and to do that he needed to get out of class. Ah, he had the perfect excuse that would kill two birds with one stone.

  
“Excuse me, madam, I’m being summoned by my pact I must go,” he lied smoothly.

  
“Now?” she asked. “Does Solomon not know you are in class?”

  
“It seems he does not respect your time as much as I do.” Asmo sighed regretfully. “May I request some … hand-on study time with you at a later date to make up for my absence?”

  
She looked at him, and then rolled her eyes, “Just go.” She flicked her hand in the direction of the door, and Asmo did not hesitate, taking the stairs two at time. “But Asmodeus,” she called as he had his hand on the door. “Do let Solomon know he can expect a visit from me shortly.”

  
Asmo figured he would neglect to actually pass on that information. A surprise visit from the academy’s master of pain and pleasure would be a fitting punishment for him using their pact so frivolously earlier today. His lips turned up in a wicked little grin as he pulled out his DDD.

  
First, he tried calling Grace, but there was no answer. Then he sent her a text, which he did not expect a reply to, but did anyway in case she had the sound turned off on her phone. While he had known by the sinking feeling in his stomach that it would not be that simple to find her, he was still disappointed. This was not Grace having a bad day and blowing off a class, not that she’d ever done it but today he would have understood if she had.

  
No, this was much more serious. Someone had taken the time to glamour a homunculus to look like her. That meant someone didn’t want it known that Grace was missing. It was time to call in calvary.

  
Next, he dialled Mammon and got his voicemail.

  
“Hey, this is the one and only great Mammon.” His voice purred on the message. “I bet you dialled this just to hear the sound of my voice. If you hadn’t you would have shot me a text, right?” His voice dropped to a whisper, “I mean, seriously babe, who wouldn’t want to hear me whisper in their ear?”

  
Asmo stared at the phone in his hand, and curiosity held his finger paused over the button to end the call.

  
“I betcha you would like to hear me say your name. I’d like that too. Just leave me your name, number and a credit card number-“

  
When had Mammon turned his cell phone into product placement for a phone sex service? Asmo tapped the end button so hard a nest of tiny cracks appeared on his screen. Idiot. Fucking Moron. And he was supposed to be responsible for keeping Grace safe?  
Asmo sent him a text demanding that he call the moment he got it, or else Lucifer was going to have him nailed to the dungeon wall by his balls.

  
Satan was the next brother he dialled, again with no answer, but as he started to type a text, the DDD rang. “What’s the emergency?” Satan asked calmly. “If it wasn’t one you just would have texted.”

  
“Where are you right now?” Asmo asked.

  
“Advanced Hexing.”

  
“Great, I need you to ditch it. Grace is missing.”

  
“Details. Now.” He demanded and Asmo complied. He related the showdown in potions, and that someone had taken the time and energy to make sure she would not be missed.

  
“I’m going to start at the ladies' locker room and work my way back from there,” Asmo explained. “Can you-”

  
“Inform Lucifer?” Satan finished the sentence.

  
“No!” Asmo shouted. He took a breath and calmed himself. “Not yet, anyway. I was hoping this could be more of an ask forgiveness after we fixed the problem kind of situation.” Asmo admitted.

  
“I suspect we are far past that point.”

  
Asmo didn’t like hearing what he was fearing said aloud and curled his hand into a fist. If anything had happened to that fragile soul, there would be a reckoning.

  
Satan continued speaking, seamlessly taking control of the situation. “I will haul Beel, Levi and Mammon from their classes and get them involved with the search. Then I will ensure Lucifer is informed. Let’s hope for all our sakes you find her first. Keep your phone close and me posted.”

  
“Got it.” Asmo hung up. A little of his panic had dissipated once Satan and seized control of the situation. He walked in a little oasis of calm to the entrance of the women’s locker room, and threw open the door while saying “Hello ladies, I hope you are all indecent-“

  
The slight before him cut the words off. Xantara was lying prone on the floor and Asmo wasn’t sure she was alive. The room was filled with the powerful energy of terror and the smell of human blood. “Grace?!” He called out. “I’m here, it's safe.”

  
There was no answer. So he took several long strides and knelt by Xantara’a body. Her head was lying in a pool of vomit. Asmo lightly rested his fingers on her neck seeking a pulse and while it was weak, it was still there. He reached down laid a hand between her breasts and he could feel the super shallow breathing.

  
He slapped her with his opposite hand, and Xantara’s eyes fluttered open.

  
Now that he had her attention, he demanded. “Where is Grace?”

  
She tried to force words from her throat but nothing would come out other than the occasional strangled grunt.

  
Asmodeos removed his hands from her in disgust, turning his face away.

  
She lightly touched the side of his face and made him look right in her eyes. The colours shifted, and she widened them to look more innocent. He could feel a push of a compulsion to attempt to make him feel pity.

  
“Where is Grace?” he repeated softly, letting her think it was working. “I might be able to help you if we get her back relatively unharmed. Where did your friends take her?”

  
Xantara shook her head.

  
“Are you trying to tell me no one has her?”

  
Asmo took another look around the room, trying to piece together what happened here. “It was just the two of you?”

  
Xantara tried to nod but she couldn’t actually move her head that far. So she blinked once with her eyes.

  
“Then who did this to you?”

  
Xantara pointed to Grace’s book bag which was left abandoned on the floor.

  
“Let me see if I’ve gotten the full picture here. You decided to pick a fight with Grace after I threatened you, and somehow she got the upper hand.”

  
Xantara blinked her eyes again.

  
Asmodeus gently stroked her face, and tenderly ran his thumb along her lower lip. “I should just let you die.” He spoke the words in the same way he would whisper endearments to a lover. “Did I not take time out of my immensely business schedule to counsel you again laying a single finger on Grace?”

  
Xantara’s eyes grew fearful as she realized her compulsion had no effect on him.

  
Asmo continued speaking, tracing his fingers along the pattern of scales on her neck. “It was less than an hour ago, so I hope you remember what I promised would happen if you did?”

  
She shook her head weakly, her eyes wide and terrified. She begged silently, the words clear on her lips even without a way to give them a voice. “Just in case you are as forgetful as you are stupid, I shall remind you. I promised you that for the rest of your days your body would burn with desire than nothing will every sate. No man, woman, animal or toy known to man will lesson it. Ever present and insatiable lust until the end of your days will be your punishment.

  
Asmodeus closed his eyes and shifted easily into the full glory of his demon form. The black wings and horns sprung forth and his uniform disappeared only to be replaced with his demonic attire. With a gentle hand he touched the golden scorpion that was wound around his body, awakening it. “I have a job for you,” he said to it fondly.

  
Xantara’s eyes widened as it slithered it’s way down his leg and onto her. It stung her three times. Once near her heart, one on her inner thigh and one last time one her low back centred over her spine. When it was done its mission, Asmo reached down his hand and it crawled back up making itself comfortable wrapped around his arm.

  
“You should have known not to fuck with me unless I invite you to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, Maybe now my Asmo will let me sleep tonight.  
> He wanted to make sure I got around to letting you know that he wasn't at all interested in Xantara and its not his fault he makes threatening a person look seductive.  
> He also wanted it made very clear that the fake Grace would not have fooled him for long. He's not Mammon after all.


	9. What Have I Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A broken and exhausted Grace wrestles with a more challenging demon than Xantara. Her own fear.

Grace sat alone in a dark place, her arms wrapped around her knees. Everything hurt. Why did everything hurt? She remembered the feel of Xantara’s heel stabbing into her. She remembered the tearing at her neck. She remembered the sound of her ribs cracking. She should be dead, shouldn’t she? Why wasn’t she dead?

  
Grace didn’t know the answer to that. Just like she didn’t know how she got to this place. She remembered sitting on the floor next to Xantara’s body, laughing and crying until she couldn’t so either anymore. She remembered reaching out and not being about to find a pulse.

  
Had she just killed someone? She felt bad about it, and she didn’t want to feel bad about it. Xantara had wanted to kill her and make her into lunch for someone else. If anyone deserved it, it would be her. Right? Right. Then why did Grace feel sick about it?  
What was going to happen to her now? How would she be punished for the life she took? Would they kill her? If so who would do it? Diavolo. No, he probably delegate the job. It would probably be Lucifer. She wondered how he would do it? Would he reach out and snap her neck like a twig? Would it sound the same as it did when her ribs cracked?

  
Maybe they wouldn’t kill her. She knew now exactly some of the things that were meant when the phrase ‘fate worse than death’ came up, The one on page seventy-four of the PE text was particularly nasty. But, would they be able to find an aardvark, barb wire and a barbershop quartet on this short of notice? She laughed, and belatedly remembered how much it hurt to do that.

  
She felt so alone and so scared. All she wanted was someone to wrap their arms around her and tell her that everything would be okay. But, it wouldn’t be okay. She just killed a demon, and there had to be consequences to that, even if it was in self-defence. Maybe she could make it her last request. Maybe her executioner could do that for her. Hold her tight and whisper sweet lies before making everything go away.

  
Grace knew she needed to get up and move. But where would she go? Back to the House of Lammantaion? That might very well be a death sentence. Home? She had no idea how to get back to Earth.

  
Her mind wandered in circles, repeating cycles of fear, sadness, and despair. She pictured all the worst outcomes, each more distressing than the last until her exhausted mind forced her body to rest some more.

  
Grace lost consciousness again fear overriding her desire for comfort. She just wanted to be safe in the dark where no one could find her or hurt her. Was that too much to ask? There was a familiar tingling and itching along her skin, but with as much pain as she was in she never noticed it.


	10. One. Human. Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How many demon lords does it require to successfully care for one human girl?  
> Apparently more than six.
> 
> Lucifer and Diavolo are brought up to speed on the situation.

Lucifer was still in Lord Diabolo’s office. This meeting would have taken half the time if Diavolo wouldn’t keep going off on excited tangents of his grand ideas for the future. Still, there were worse ways to spend his day. The afternoon meal had been hand prepared by Barbatos himself and had been a culinary delight. As delicious and fulfilling as the meal had been the very best part of this day is that none of his siblings would dare interrupt this meeting with their petty squabbling.

  
There was a polite knock at the door, and Barbatos entered. He gave a respectful bow of his head to first Diavolo and then Lucifer. “My lords, I regret to inform you that there has been a near-fatal altercation between two students.”

  
Diavolo waved his hand dismissively. “Just string them up in the dungeon and I’ll deal with them at my leisure.”

  
Barbatos cleared his throat. “The altercation involved one of the exchange students.”

  
Lucifer inhaled sharply. He had a bad feeling about this.

  
“Ah, thank you for bringing it to my immediate attention,” Diavolo rose to his feet, and so too did Lucifer half a heartbeat later. “Are the perpetrators in the infirmary?”

  
“Just one,” Barbatos replied, “The other’s whereabouts are currently unknown.”

  
“Which students are we dealing with?” Diavolo asked.

  
“Xantara and Grace.”

  
Lucifer was glad that he was standing behind Diavolo, so the former didn’t witness the wince that momentarily flickered across his features. In a calm voice, he asked, “How critical are Grace’s injuries?” He needed to know the details to be able the inflict the equivalent amount of damage on Mammon for failing at his task.

  
“I don’t know, sir” Barbatos replied. “She is the one missing.”

  
Both Diavolo and Lucifer stopped in their tracks. It was the demon prince that was the one to ask the clarifying question. “So it is Xantara who is in near-critical condition?”

  
“Correct, my lord.” Barbatos nodded. “The other council members have assembled in the infirmary and I believe that they can give you a clearer picture of the situation that I.”

  
The three of them walked quickly through the halls. The crowds of students cleared a path instinctively acting in self-preservation. Lucifer tried to envision a scenario in which a conflict between a human and a demon it was the demon was the one that was gravely wounded.

  
When they entered the infirmary, five pairs of eyes looked up at their arrival. Mammon was leaning against the wall. Clutched in his hands was Grace’s bag. He held onto it as though it was a precious treasure and the look on his face screamed that he would maim anyone who tried to take it from him. Levi was sitting in a chair with his headphones on in an obvious attempt to distance himself socially since they weren't plugged into anything. After glancing up at Lucifer, his eyes went back to the screen of the DDD in his hands, one that was obviously not his as it was lacking in Sucre Frenzy decals. Asmo was sitting next to the bedside, gently running one finger along the injured demoness’s arm. At odds with the tenderness of his touch, Lucifer saw no sympathy or compassion in Asmo’s eyes, only cruelty. Beel was pacing back and forth, obviously agitated where Satan, on the other hand, appeared to be calm and in control. Oh but Lucifer knew that appearances could be deceiving when it came to Satan and that likely it was that his brother was holding his rage at bay by only the tiniest of margins.

  
There was one more demon in the infirmary. The healer on duty, but in the presence of such powerful personalities, he was almost invisible. It was he that Diavolo addressed first. “Condition of the patient?”

  
“Xantara has been poisoned. While I have not ascertained the exact nature of the poison, it has damaged her respiratory system and major parts of her digestive tract. Once I finish analyzing the poison, I should be able to restore her to almost full health.” Now that he had reported, he looked nervously around the room at the angry demons assembled there. “If I may take my leave to continue the analysis and formulate an antidote?”

  
Diavolo nodded, and the healer all but fled to the back room.

  
Once that door closed, Diavolo turned his attention to the gathered avatars. “Tell me what happened,” Diavolo commanded.

  
Everyone spoke at once, a cacophony of chaos that was an assault on the ears.

  
“One at a time!” Lucifer bellowed.

  
The room went silent, and then the brother’s exchanged glances each waiting for the others to start.

  
Satan sighed and began the narrative. He explained the events of the early afternoon and the humiliation of Xantara at Grace’s hand in potions class. Lucifer had known that Potions was one of Grace’s strongest classes but had been unaware quite how much she had learned in a short time. Clever girl. Clever and brave girl to have acted as she had.

  
“Barbatos,” Diavolo said, glancing at his butler who stood near the door. “Please find Solomon and have him wait for me in my office. I would like to get his perspective on the events.”

  
“Immediately, my lord,” Barbatos answered, then departed.

  
Diavolo turned his eyes back to Satan and said, “Continue.”

  
It was Asmo, not Satan, that picked up the story and explained how he detected the glamoured homunculi and found Xantara in the locker room.

  
“Asmodeus,” Lucifer interjecting, using his full name. “When you discovered the homunculi deception and that one of our exchange students was missing, why did you not immediately inform me?”

  
“Lucifer, you can decide on the punishment for your siblings once we have the full story. I suspect Asmodeus will not the only one in need of correction.”

  
At that point Satan took over again, drawing the attention back to himself. “I examined where they fought. Judging by the blood splatters, Xantara was giving Grace a savage beating until she made the mistake of touching Grace with bare skin.”

  
Asmo lifted Xantara’s arm and she gave a little moan. “See here,” he directed their attention to the rash on her hand. Both Diavolo and Lucifer drew closer to look at it. “Seems Grace was trying to protect herself. She mixed in something toxic in the lotion I gave her.”

  
Mammon opened her bag and brought out the container. Lord Diavolo reached for it and Mammon instinctively snatched it back, holding it close to his chest.

  
“Mammon,” Lucifer growled.

  
He extended his hand back out to grudgingly allow Diavolo to take it from him.

  
The demon prince unscrewed the cap and sniffed at the lotion. “I don’t smell anything.”

  
For the first time, Levi spoke. “That’s cause she’s smart. Smarter than we gave her credit for. She picked things that the lotion scent would mask.”

  
“If she was going down, she wasn’t gonna go down alone. My human is a fighter,” Mammon said. The tone of his voice bordered on pride, but his downcast eyes showed shame at how he had failed her.

  
“If you’d done your job right, she wouldn’t have had to be a fighter!” Beel shouted. “And she wouldn’t be out there now with a bite taken out of her!”

  
“It ain’t all on me!” Mammon shouted back. “Levi, show em the DDD!”

  
Lucifer held out his hand to Levi, and Levi sighed heavily as he dropped the device in Lucifer’s palm.

  
“I had Levi attempt to unlock her DDD, as I hoped it would have clues to where she might have gone. As you can see he was successful.”

  
Lucifer skimmed through the messages. The taunting, the obscene images, the threats, he had known she was unhappy but he had no idea that she was enduring this. He handed it back to Levi before he crushed it. He could feel his demon form close to the surface. His skin itched from where his wings wanted to break forth, and his nails were slowly becoming talons.

  
“I have heard enough,” Diavolo said, his voice ringing with authority. He turned to face Lucifer with a dark look on his face. “I trusted you and your brothers to take care of one human. Just one human girl. You are six of the most powerful lords of Devildom and yet you failed to care for One. Human. Girl.”

  
The words struck at Lucifer and he flinched as though Diavolo had physically hit him. After falling from the heavens, he had sworn his loyalty to Diavolo, vowing to support him in all things. He knew how important Diabolo’s brainchild of an exchange program was to him, and how it represented the ideals he wanted to pursue in his reign. The weight of this failure drove Lucifer down to one knee and he bowed his head “My lord-“

  
“I do not want to hear your apologies or your excuses." Diavolo interrupted. "You have only one task right now, find the human and for all your sakes I hope you find her alive.”

  
One by one the brothers left the room. Lucifer stayed down on his knee until the last of his siblings left. He looked at Diavolo and opened his mouth to speak.

  
“Get out of my sight, Lucifer.”

  
He bowed his head once more, then rose and left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here we are now at the exciting part. This section of Grace's tale has seven endings, one for each brother. Yes, seven. I have not forgotten about Belphie, he's still up in his attic but that doesn't mean he doesn't have a place in this story.
> 
> Each of the boys has their own potential way for finding her, so each has the ability to be the first pact she makes. 
> 
> Yes, first. Her story will not end here. Once I finish with each of the alternate reality endings, I will move to continuing their stories in their own fics. Reactions to the endings may influence the order the fics will come out.
> 
> Thank you all for the support so far. You have made me feel very special and I appreciate the time you take to read my story, especially when there is a wealth of excellent work to choose from.
> 
> I'm looking forward to Grace's continuing adventure and can't wait to share it with you.


	11. The Cat Napping Seventh Born - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belphegor finds that at least one human may be of use to him.

Belphegor was sleeping, That should not be a hardship for the avatar of Sloth, but right now, given a choice, he would choose to do anything else. He hadn’t been given a choice. Lucifer had imprisoned him in the attic. All because of a difference of opinion on the topic of humans.

  
Humans were animals, short-lived and reckless animals that destroyed what they touched. It was because of them that Lilith, his beloved sister, had died. Centuries later her absence was still an open wound in the family. So Belphegor hated them. While he would have liked to see them all burn, Belphegor had only barely tolerated their continued existence as he rarely left Devildom and didn’t have to interact with them.

  
Diavolo had ruined that tacit stalemate with his ridiculous exchange program. Bringing human here to live among them? Protecting them as they learned? No. He would not stand for it, and when Diavolo could not be swayed, Belphegor had threatened to end the program in blood and death.

  
Lucifer had sided with his liege lord and locked him in the attic, lying to his brothers that he was serving as a representative elsewhere and would return home at the end of the semester. It was maddening. This comfortable prison that Lucifer had created masked his presence from the outside and not one of the remaining five brothers could feel that he was still here.

  
Belphegor could have tolerated the situation and patiently plotted to obtain his freedom if it had not been for one factor. Beel. In this prison the special connection Belphegor shared with his twin was choked off and weakened. He could still feel his brother and still watch his dreams but it wasn’t enough. He felt incomplete without his twin. It was for this injustice that Belphegor would make Lucifer suffer before he finally killed him.

  
Belphegor opened his eyes. He felt something odd, a sensation he hadn’t felt before and it had something to do with that human. The one that occupied his empty seat at the table. A surge of power born out of desperation that was wild and unpredictable. It sent a tremor through the world of dreams that was his to control.

  
A smile formed on his lips. He might be able to use that. Lucifer had planned for all sorts of eventualities making this prison nearly unescapable, but there was no way he could have planned for her. Belphegor sat up from his prone position, cracked his neck and closed his eyes once more. He relaxed his mind and sought her out.

  
He was well familiar with what her presence felt like since it pervaded his home for close to three months. Belphegor had on more than one occasion watched her nightmares, and taken pleasure in the fact that she fared so poorly here. If he had not been so limited by his imprisonment he would have made her wake screaming in terror every night.

  
Beel’s face popped into his mind and Belphegor frowned. Well, maybe he wouldn’t have for Beel’s sake. His twin was fond of her for reasons that extended beyond the fact she always cooked extra so there would be a late-night snack for him.

  
Even knowing what he was looking for, it took longer than Belphegor would have liked to find her. She was drifting in and out of consciousness but eventually he tracked her down. He laughed, somehow she had managed to make her self invisible and crawl away to hide. One of his siblings had nearly stepped on her in his search. If Belphegor hadn’t had need of her, he would have been tempted to leave her there and watch Lucifer and the others chase their tails.

  
Then as clear as if Beel was standing next to him, Belphegor could picture Beel looking at him with a mixture of sadness and disappointment in his purple eyes. “Enough with the puppy eyes Beel,” he murmured to himself. “It was only a thought and besides I need her.”

  
With great focus, he established a connection. He was pleasantly surprised to find her mind in such an open state. He wished he had the time to explore and discover the skeletons she had hidden in her closets, but the power she was unconsciously wielding was too unstable and he didn’t want to miss the opportunity that had fallen in his lap.

  
“Grace,” he breathed her name and tried to pull her attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really can't call him Belphie yet. It just doesn't sound right.


	12. The Cat Napping Seventh Born - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace makes a deal with the devil she doesn't know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been edited to fix an unintentional mistake plot wise. Most of it is unchanged. Just a heads up for people doing a reread.

Grace wasn’t sure if she was awake or asleep, but someone was calling her name.

  
“Five more minutes,” she replied, her mind still fuzzy with exhaustion.

  
“Grace,” the voice said again, “While as a rule, I’m very pro nap, I need your attention.” It sounded irritated with her.

  
“What do you want?” she whined. It wouldn’t be the first time she had a conversation with herself.

  
“It’s less about what I want and more about what I need, what we both need.”

  
“And what do you think I need?”

  
“Currently a shower.” The voice muttered almost too softly for Grace to hear.

  
“Hey!” she protested. This was quite unlike any conversation she’d had in the past. Usually, she heard voices from her past, but this voice she did not recognize.

  
“What? Did you want me to lie to you?”

  
Grace remembered her desire for comfort and answered, “Yes, please lie to me.”

  
Whoever he was snorted. “You don’t really mean that,” he said. “You’ve resented every time someone paid you false compliments.”

  
“How do you know that?” she asked, now certain it wasn’t an inner voice.

  
“Normally I can only influence dreams, but you are currently in a very vulnerable state. Between the shock, pain and exhaustion you are walking the fine line between wake and sleep granting me glimpses of the events that fuel those dreams.”

  
Grace felt very exposed. “Those things don’t belong to you.”

  
“I am Belphegor, the avatar of Sloth.” His voice grew louder and commanding.

  
She had wondered why there were only six demons when the count of the deadly sins was seven, but she’d only questioned it once. The look on Beel’s face had been so sad that she had assumed something tragic had happened and chose not to press the topic.

  
Belphegor continued, his presence growing larger as he spoke. “I can drive my enemies to suicide with the right words whispered to their soul in the dead of night. I can turn good men into traitors with doubts seeded into their dreams. All that it is this place belongs to me.”

  
He was trying to intimidate her, but Belphegor had just said that he was in her mind. If that was true then she wasn’t going to let him bully her on her own turf. “And with that attitude its no wonder your brothers never invite you to parties.”

  
Grace could feel a wave of emotions that were not her own. This was definitely not as one-sided as he seemed to think. There were raging anger and frustration, a touch of amusement but most of all overwhelming sadness and loneliness. She tried to follow it but felt like her mind hit a wall.

  
“No peeking,” he growled.

  
“Not fair,” she protested. “Here you are poking around my mind, looking at my dirty laundry and I don’t even get to snoop in your closet?”

  
“Human, you will not rummage through my mind like a child looking for hidden presents.” Behind the word human, there were complex emotions that she couldn’t entirely decipher but they were powerful and negative. The most prominent of which was disgust.

  
Disgusting, was she? She had enough of her own emotional baggage that she didn’t a demon lord adding his steamer trunk to the bunch. “If my mind is so disgusting to you then go away.”

  
Belphegor withdrew a little and for a second she thought he was going to go away. When he spoke next it was in a much gentler tone. “If it is any consolation, you are the least disgusting human I’ve meant in centuries.”

  
“Let me guess, I’m the only human you’ve met in centuries.”

  
He laughed, “True, but war makes for strange bedfellows.”

  
“Am I at war?” Grace asked.

  
“You have blood on your hands.”

  
His words brought back the reality of the situation. While she was teasing him in the safety of whatever this space they were communicating in, Grace had almost forgotten what had happened. Memories and emotions came flooding back. The fear. The pain. In the distance, she could feel her body. Her stomach clenched painfully and Grace thought she might vomit.

  
“No!” Don’t focus on your body. If you wake all the way up I might not be able to re-establish the connection!”

  
Grace barely heard him. She was reliving that moment when she had been crawling away. How trapped and alone she had felt at Xantara’s hands. How powerless.

  
She felt a sensation that was akin to a hand smoothing her hair. She could hear Belphegor speak, but it was quieter and further away. “You don’t ever need to feel that way ever again.”

  
Grace focussed on the sensation until she could feel his presence more clearly again. “Are you offering to protect me?” she asked.

  
He snorted. “No.”

  
The reply stunned her briefly.

  
“You’ve rejected the protection of all my siblings, why would I waste my time?”

  
“Then what are you offering me?”

  
“I’m offering to be your ally and always have your back. I’m offering to teach you how to protect yourself better and lend my power to the skills you already possess.” He then paused. “Most importantly, I’m offering an end to your solitude. If you accept my offer, then I would never be more than a breath away.”

  
Those last words sounded so intimate, conjuring the image naked bodies lying in bed achingly close but not touching. Lips ghosting kisses along her skin but not making actual contact. Grace buried the thought and hid behind a joke as she usually did when things got uncomfortable. “So, I see you passed ‘Unintentional Flirting 101’ with high marks.”

  
She could feel his irritation, impatience and frustration. It helped remind her why the sweet words he just spoke were worthless. “See, you don’t even like me.”

  
“I don’t need to like you to have your back,” Belphegor said honestly. “Nor do you need to like me to use what I’m offering.”

  
“But I know what pacts cost. I would have to give you part of my soul.” It might be naive, or romantic nonsense, but the idea of giving something so intimate to someone who cared nothing for her seemed somehow wrong.

  
“I think you don’t fully understand your position. Let me clarify it for you. When I threatened Diavolo’s precious program, Lucifer locked me away. Muting my powers and severing me from my siblings. Severing me from my own twin!" He paused for a moment to calm his voice.

In that space, Grace could feel who he meant. Beel. It was Beel that was his twin. No wonder he looked so sad at times.

Belphegor regained his composure. "What do you think will happen to you for killing another student? Hmm? He could well kill you for it. Wipe your mind and send you home. There are countless options in between but I doubt any of them will be pleasant.”

  
“But the avatars-“ she protested.

  
“If Lucifer chose Diavolo over me, his own brother, do you really think you would fare much better? Even if the others want to shield you, do you think they could or would stand against him?”

  
Oh, she wanted to believe they would. She wanted to trust in all the small moments between them that felt real. She wished she didn’t doubt their sincerity. But, doubt she did. If she had really had faith in them, Grace would have sought one of them out once she had realized what she’d done.

  
“A little piece of your soul to me is minor compared to losing your life or having your memories cut from you.”

  
Grace mulled his words over and stated her biggest objection. “I don’t trust you.”

  
“You shouldn’t.” Belphegor agreed. “I’m a demon, but you can trust in the rules of the pact, and its binding.”

  
“Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

  
“There are many things I’m not telling you,” he said. She could hear the smile.

  
“What’s really in this for you?”

  
“Do you not think a part of your soul is a fair exchange? Should I ask for all of it?”

  
“I don’t appreciate you mocking me,” Grace said. “Answer my question.”

  
“You don’t command me yet,” Belphegor said.

  
“And I never will if you don’t answer my question.” Her voice was firm.

  
He grumbled a bit, obviously not pleased to give up what he considered the high ground. “I’m still imprisoned and I think making a pact with you will free me. There is currently something very unique happening in you and I’m sure between that and my own power I can break the spell keeping me imprisoned.”

  
“What if you are wrong?”

  
There was silence.

  
Grace continued speaking. “If you are wrong, you would still be bound to me and still be trapped. Is it worth the risk?”

  
“Yes,” Belephegor said. “It’s worth the risk.”

  
Grace took a hesitant breath and echoed his agreement. “Yes.”

  
“Yes?” he repeated.

  
“Yes,” she said, more firmly.

  
“Good, then come to me.”

  
“But I don’t even know where I am.”

  
“I will help you,” Belphegor said gently. “Relax and I will show you the way.”

  
With his guidance, Grace slept walked back to the House of Lamentation. Once the large wooden doors closed behind her, Belphegor told her to open her eyes and wake. “You will find me in the attic.”

  
Grace blinked and was fully awake for the first time since she had defeated Xantara. She felt the pain from all her wounds and it almost overwhelmed her. Her clothes were stuck to her skin, adhered firmly by dry blood. Breathing which should be automatic was now something she needed to think about.

  
She was standing in the bathroom on the main floor. Grace could see her haggard reflection in the mirror before her. Why had he not lead her all the way up the stairs? It seemed too cruel to wake her to her body’s torment here. Maybe he was giving her one last chance to back out before the deed was done to test her resolve.

Then she saw the sink full of warm sudsy water. Grace snorted. No, he was not giving her a way out. Belphegor just didn't want to end up like Xantara. He was smart, and she was going to be relying on that so she was glad. She washed all of her exposed skin, and prepared to face the trial that were the stairs. 

  
She hauled herself slowly up those three long flights of steps. Her body often demanded that she stop to rest, and she would lean heavily against the wall. She marvelled at how quiet the house was. They must all be out looking for her. The question she didn’t have an answer to was what they would do with her when they found her.

  
When she finally made to he destination, she heard for the first time with her ears what she had only heard in her head. “Grace.”

  
Now, she had a face to go with the voice. Standing behind a barred door was Belphegor. He looked more delicate than the voice had led her to believe. When she had realized that he was Beel's twin, her mind had made the assumption that they would look similar. It was a very incorrect assumption. Belphegor had dark hair with white tips. His frame, while not slight was nowhere near as muscular. It was only in the eyes that she saw any resemblance and that was superficial, the colour only. His eyes lacked the kindness that she saw so clearly in Beel’s.

  
There was something she did recognize in them though. Loneliness paired with the need for contact but fear of what that contact would bring. She was pretty sure there was a measure of the same false bravado she wore like armour when she left her room for the day too.

  
Grace stepped toward him. “Belphegor, how do we do this?”

  
“It’s going to be awkward,” he said, extending a hand through the bars.

  
“Aren’t first times always?” Grace replied, she lightly entwined her fingers with his.

  
Belphegor laughed and pulled her closer to the bars. She winced and felt shoulder wound tear.

  
“Sorry,” he apologized. Belphegor snaked his other hand through to smooth her hair. It felt exactly how it did in her mind. “Pacts are traditionally sealed with a kiss. It will be awkward with the bars in the way.”

  
Now that the time was actually here, Grace was scared. Belphegor could see it and continued to stroke her hair. “No need for that. One little kiss and you will be able to command me to smite all your enemies.”

  
“What if my enemies are tougher than you?” Grace asked.

  
He used the hand that was stroking her hair to pull her closer. Her heart beat louder as their daces grew near. Their lips were nearly touching, only that breath away that she had so vividly imagined when he whispered. “You and I will be unstoppable.”

  
Belphegor’s lips closed the final distance. It was not a gentle kiss. It was a conquest, a demand for surrender. For only a moment, Grace hesitated, but only a heartbeat. She gave herself to the kiss, and all that it entailed. Power cocooned the two of them. She felt a short stab of pain, deeper and more intimate than all her other wounds. She felt lesser, smaller than she was before. The sense of weakness lasted only a moment however before that space within her was filled with something different. It felt strange and familiar all at once, and for the first time since she’s been brought to Devildom, she felt like she was home.

  
The kiss ended, and she collapsed to the ground. Her legs exhausted from the climb and her spirit from what had just passed between them. She reached up and touched her lips. Lips that suddenly felt so cold without his.

  
The door creaked as he pulled it inward. There was an elated smile on his lips as he stepped out from the room that had held him prisoner. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath filling his lungs. Belphegor held then slowly exhaled. Opening his eyes, he looked down at her and smiled. He crouched down and picked Grace up and carried her bridal style into the attic room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear Grace, I do suspect that you have no idea what you have gotten yourself into. 
> 
> This will be continued in a separate fic named Somethings Should Not Be Kept in an Attic.
> 
> Now, which dear brother am I going to visit next . . .


	13. The Famished Sixth-Born - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beel faces a new dilemma, one he's never faced before. Should he eat it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, slight gore warning . . . possible cannibalism if you want to interpret it that way.

Beel always did one of two things when mulling over a problem. He would work out or eat. Since all his brothers were so agitated and volatile right now, working out seemed to be the better option despite his stomach’s rather vocal complaints to the contrary.  
He laid down on the weight bench and gripped the barbell firmly. Beel imagined he was wrapping his hands around Xantara’s neck and smiled grimly. It took several reps of increasing weight before he finally started to calm down a little.

  
Beel was frustrated. They should all be working together to find Grace, but instead, they all stormed off in their own directions. While he recognized they all needed time and space to process their failure in their own way, it was not the best way to help Grace.  
Usually, it would be Lucifer who would be the guiding voice in this situation. It was his way to ignore their bullshit and ride herd on them all, but Beel could tell just how shook his eldest sibling was by the chastisement he’d received at Diavolo’s hands. Lucifer was probably not thinking very clearly at the moment. This was unfortunate because Beel had an idea and was in need of a sounding board.

  
In the past, in times like these, he would turn to Belphie. His twin rarely weighed in one way or another, though he would be quick to point out any obvious flaws. He missed the way Belphie would let him find the solution with only the slightest of nudges. Beel wished his twin had never signed up to be one of Devildom’s representatives to Earth, but if it helped him come to terms with his feelings about humans, it would be a good thing.

  
Beel could feel the sweat forming along his skin and rested he dumbbell back in place. He rose from the bench and towelled his torso dry. Beel felt calmer after purging some of his feelings through exercise and threw on a shirt to go to the kitchen. Before Grace had joined the household, he’d never bothered, but now he did it for her comfort.

  
He could still remember how brightly she blushed when he had wandered in post-workout topless during her first week. Grace hadn’t been able to look him in the eye for the rest of the day, and the three following that she always had a hint of blush on her cheeks when she looked in his direction.

  
It probably would only serve to embarrass her further is she knew how often he thought of that encounter. How he treasured the way her eyes had travelled down the defined lines of his torso all the way down until they disappeared into his shorts. At that moment she seemed to forget her fear of him and looked at him as a man, not just a demon.

  
Beel was well aware of how intimidating he was. Even if he was human, his sheer size and bulk would be scary. Beel was jealous of Asmo’s ways with words and Mammon’s insane level of unearned confidence. He seldom knew the right thing to say or do. So he hovered in the edges of the tiny world Grace had created for herself down here in Devildom, more specifically the kitchen where they could talk about food, a topic they both enjoyed. Now she even let him help her with the cooking if he promised not to snack on the ingredients.

  
As he stepped into the kitchen, he recognized how eerily silent the house was. Everyone must be out chasing their own leads. He opened the fridge and took the full carton of the Wyvern milk. He unscrewed the lid and drained it entirely. It was not enough to fill the gaping hole in his stomach, but it would be enough to persuade it to be silent for a little while.

  
Picking up his DDD, Beel saw from the flurry of messages in the group chat that no one had found her yet. Frustrated, he stalked to his room. This should have been easy. Grace should have left a trail to follow, given the carnage he’d witnessed in that locker room. She could be dying, and this was taking too long.

  
He sighed and went to his room. He picked up his school bag from where he had dropped it when he’d gotten home and carried it with to Belphie's bed. He flopped down on the mattress and stared at the ceiling.

  
“Belphie, what should I do?” he asked the empty air. Beel rolled on one side and hugged his twin’s favourite cow print pillow tightly. “If I do this, she might never forgive me but if I don’t-“ he stopped. He didn’t want to give voice to the worst-case scenarios. Beel just laid there for a few more minutes his face buried in the pillow, seeking comfort from his absent twin.

  
He took a deep breath, released his grip and sat up in a cross-legged position. Beel opened his bag and carefully took a tiny twist of paper towel from his metal lunch kit. He held it ever so gently in his large hands, as though he was afraid to break its contents.  
Beel had been there in the locker room while Satan had examined the scene. The scent of Grace’s blood had filled the air. He hadn’t liked how the adrenaline and fear had transformed her usually sweet scent. The fact he could almost taste her terror in the air had both nauseated and infuriated him.

  
While Mammon had searched her bag for clues, and Levi had focussed on the task of cracking her DDD’s password, Beel had caught another layer to the scent. It was still Grace’s, but it was not that of her blood but that of her flesh. It had not taken him long to find it. Xantara had bitten a chunk out of Grace and it was sitting in the pool of vomit near her head.

  
A very low growl had shaken his body. How dare this lowly creature dare sink her teeth into Grace? He had felt angry but also jealous. Someone else had tasted Grace before he could. Someone who was not capable of appreciating the delicacy she was.  
Beel’s move had been swift but Satan’s had been swifter, preventing Beel from caving in that demoness’ face with his powerful fists. While still holding Beel back, Satan had commanded Asmo to take Xantara to the infirmary. Asmo had wasted no time in complying, not wanting to be unintentional collateral damage should Beel pull free from Satan’s grasp.

  
Beel had growled again, there were words but they were almost lost in the deep rumble. “I will kill her.”

  
“And rob Grace of the chance to finish the job herself?” Satan had answered. He had finally released his grip on Beel, certain that Asmo was far enough away.

  
Beel had said nothing in reply but waited until no one was looking to pick up that piece of flesh from the ground. It would have been wrong to leave it lying there. It was still a part of Grace and therefore precious. He had failed to protect her, but he could be sure that this wasn't going to fall into the wrong hands. Beel had carefully rinsed it, washing away any remaining traces of Xantara and then had stowed it in his lunch kit for safekeeping.

  
He looked at it now. This tiny lump of Grace cupped so carefully in the palm of his hand. He could use it to find her. The human belief that devouring one's enemies would give you their strength had come from somewhere. Traced far enough back, Beel was the root of that particular theory. Most humans were entirely incapable of the feat and all they usually gained from the attempt was indigestion. Beel, on the other hand, could devour his enemies and make parts of them his own.

  
If he ate what he held in his giant hands, he could find Grace. Of that, he had no doubt. The dilemma was, that where she was would be the least of what he learned. Beel would have a glimpse into the heart and the soul of who she was. Her body had already been violated once today, and Beel didn’t want to be responsible an even greater violation, that of her very self.

  
If Lucifer had been aware that Beel had this morsel, it would no longer be Beel’s choice. The eldest would have made it a command. Lucifer would be in the right to do so. Grace was out there, alone and hurt. Or worse, she could be dying.

  
Beel was aware of how selfish he was for hesitating. He was certain that ingesting her flesh would undo all the small victories he’d made in easing her to be comfortable with him. Beel wanted her to look at him as a man and was afraid after this all she would see was the monster. He took a breath and gently stroked the flesh in his hand with the tip of one finger. When he exhaled the decision was made. It better she see him a monster then never see him again at all.

  
Beel picked it up and put it in his mouth. He let it rest on his tongue for a moment, enjoying the taste of her, letting it fill his senses. Then, he swallowed.


	14. The Famished Sixth-Born - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beel successfully finds Grace but damn is she stubborn

The ground moved beneath Grace and she groaned. Then she heard a terrible rumbling, and she wondered if it was an earthquake. Fuck, wouldn’t it be ironic to survive a bitch fight with a demon only to die in a natural disaster? She tried to move but her arms were tightly bound.

  
With panic, she opened her eyes and realized that she was being held several feet above the ground. She struggled instinctively, only to have Beel coo a soothing sound at her. She glanced up at him with confusion in her eyes.

  
“Sorry ‘bout the sheet, but I um didn’t know what parts of you are safe to touch.” Beel apologized. “And you weren’t totally with it and didn’t want to drop you if you made too many sudden moves.”

  
Given the strength in his grip, she was pretty sure that there was nothing she could have done that would have made Beel drop her. Not knowing what to say, she just made a vague sound of agreement.

  
He carried her for a while in silence. They were outside now, and the night air tasted so good to her. So opened her mouth to say something but when she looked up at Beel, she could see the tension in the muscles of his neck and in the way he held his jaw. Grace bit her lower lip. Beel seemed angry. It made him look even bigger and more imposing, something Grace would have thought would have been impossible. She wanted to ask where he was taking her but was now afraid of the answer.

  
So when the House of Lamentation came into view, she was surprised. “You took me home?”

  
“Why would I take you somewhere else?” He asked with a confused expression. “Unless you wanted a healer, but I thought you’d be more comfortable being tended here.” A slightly panicked look flashed across his features. “Was I wrong? I can take you to a healer!”

  
“I thought you were going to take me to Diavolo,” Grace said, looking away from him and chewing her lip. When he didn’t say anything she looked back up at him cautiously. “You know, for punishment?” He looked at her with genuine confusion, so Grace continued. “For killing Xantara?”

  
“Oh!” Bee’s eyes lit up when he made the connection. “Xantara’s not dead.”

  
That news hit Grace like a punch to the gut. She was filled with s many emotions at once. Relief, that she wasn’t a murderer. Anger, that the bitch who hurt her was still alive. Regret, that she hadn’t finished the job. Fear, that greater retribution was on the way. Sadness, well damn she didn’t even know what she was sad about but it was there too.

  
Her stomach clenched, and she felt like she was going to be sick. She opened her mouth intending on asking Beel to put her down, but it was too late and she vomited. It mostly splashed harmlessly onto the plants lining the walk, but Grace’s face and hair did not escape unscathed.

  
If she hadn’t just emptied her stomach moments before, she would now from the embarrassment. Her face burned red, and she kept her eyes down. While Beel gently set her down on the steps, she avoided looking at him. She did not want to see the look on his face.

  
He unbundled her upper body from the sheet, licked a corner of it and then without a comment cleaned her face. His touch was very light and so very gentle. When she finally could look at him the look on his face his expression was one of concern and kindness. “That will have to do for the moment,” he said, seeming not bothered by the projectile vomiting in the slightest. “We can do a better job once we get you inside.”

  
Beel looked like he was about to scoop her up in his arms again, and Grace protested. “If you just unwrap me, I’m sure I can walk.”

  
“I’m sure you could too,” he replied calmly. He proceeded to ignore her request and picked her back up effortlessly as though she was light as a feather. “This will be much faster though.” She wasn’t sure how he made carrying her and opening the door look easy but he managed it.

  
The house was quiet. Grace had never once heard it that quiet. Lucifer wasn’t listening to a record in the music room. There angry shouting was coming from Levi’s room as cursed out his party members for their ineptitude. No sounds of pleasure emerged from Asmo’s room. It was then Grace realized that they must be all out looking for her. While she was feeling guilty about it, she never noticed that Beel had walked straight past her room. She stayed oblivious to this fact until he opened the door and for the first time ever she saw the interior of his bedroom.

  
“Umm Beel,” she said, as she looked at the room that was divided down the centre. The contents were mirrored and in two different colour schemes. One half was orange and the other purple. “What was wrong with my room?”

  
“I get pretty banged up in sports and I have the stuff to help treat your wounds here.” He said simply, setting her down on the foot of his bed. “I’m going to run you a bath. Wash that nasty poison off your skin and disinfect all the open wounds.” He stepped into the bathroom and she could hear the water running.

  
A bath sounded really nice. It would be great to get all the dried blood off. It would also be awesome not to have vomit soaked pieces of hair dangling in her face.

  
Wait! He didn’t mean wash the poison off personally, did he? Oh no, that was not going to happen!

  
Grace was not comfortable with this. Not at all. She had issues with nudity twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. She didn’t even like looking at herself naked. There was no way she was going to let Beel see the lumpy bread dough that she hid under her uniform every day she got dressed.

  
She had to get out of here! Unfortunately, the door was about six feet away and much to her dismay, Grace realized that her legs were still tightly bundled in a sheet. She would have hop there and her ribs hurt just thinking about it.

  
As she was trying to figure out where Beel had tucked all the ends, and free herself, he emerged from the bathroom. “Grace,” he sighed. “Let me help with that.”

  
“It’s okay,” she stammered. “I think I’ve got this figured out.”

  
“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” he asked, ignoring her protest. He quickly freed her from the sheet and tossed it without looking in his hamper. “Need a hand getting in the tub?”

  
Grace blushed and shook her head. She walked slowly and carefully toward his bathroom, watching him out of the corner of her eye. He wasn’t following her. She exhaled, he just meant run the bath. Grace shook her head, relieved. She should have known better. He wasn’t Asmo after all.

  
“Oh, take these!” Beel exclaimed. He opened a drawer under his bed and took out a pair of his pyjamas. Beel stepped close and held them out to Grace.

  
She took the offered PJ’s carefully being careful not to touch his skin. Instinctively, she wanted to hug them against her body but at the last minute stopped, not wanting to get them dirty. “Thanks.” She stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind her.  
The bathroom was big, bigger than hers for sure, and like the room had two of everything. But the towels on the purple half had dust sitting on them. Nor was there a toothbrush sitting in the cup on that sink.

  
The orange tub was the one filled with water, and it seemed to fizz as she looked at it. He did say he was adding something to it to disinfect the wounds.

  
Grace slowly started to peel off her clothes. She started with the makeshift bandage on her neck. Grace hissed with pain as he fought with the dried blood.

  
“You okay?” Beel asked, his voice full of concern.

  
“Yeah,” she answered. Then she yelped as the ribbon finally came free. “Maybe only kinda okay,” she corrected. “A lot of this is dried on.”

  
“You want-“

  
Grace didn’t even let him get the full question out. “Nope. No help!” In fact, she paused in her undressing to go and lock the door. “I’ve got this!”

  
“Are you sure?” The door shook a little. Grace panicked momentarily thinking he was forcing it, but then relaxed when she realized he must have sat down outside and was now leaning on it.

  
“Very.”

  
Grace looked at her shoulder. For how much it had hurt, she would have expected the bite to be so much bigger than it was. She touched it gingerly with her fingers. It was also bleeding a lot less than she thought it would be.

  
“Talk to me while you in there, kay?” Beel asked through the door.

  
“Why?” Grace asked pulling off her blazer.

  
“So I know that you haven’t drowned.”

  
She unbuttoned her blouse and winced. The bruising on her ribs was dark and angry. Colours that she had thought were only dreamt up by make-up artists on crime procedural shows for dramatic effect. She turned to look in the mirror at where Xantara’s heel had stabbed her. She wanted to poke at it but thought better of it. One more cry of pain, and lock or no lock a certain seven-foot demon might come in to check on her. “I’m not going to drown.”

  
Grace tried to reach behind her to unhook her bra, but after two failed and very painful attempts later, she gave up on that idea. She opened his medicine cabinet. He said that he had stuff for treating minor injuries and sure enough, there was a pair of scissors sitting next to a roll of gauze. She cut the damn bra off, sad to destroy one of the pretty ones, but knowing Asmo he would just use it as an excuse to buy her another.

  
“You aren’t in the water yet,” Beel said from his side of the door.

  
“I do not need a running commentary on my bath!” Grace snapped as she stepped out of her underwear.

  
“It's going to get cold,” he replied defensively.

  
She dipped a foot in it. It was not cold yet, in fact, it might still be a little on the hot side. Grace very carefully got into the bath and sunk her aching, broken body into it. She failed to muffle the groan of pain this time.

  
“I heard that,” Beel said.

  
“Well, now you know I’m in the damn water!” Grace felt a little bad that she was kept snapping at him. He didn’t deserve it. Beel had come to find her and was now doing his best to be a gentleman and help her out. She almost apologized, until she heard him quietly chuckling. “What’s so funny?”

  
“You.” He said, and then he paused and tried to find the right words. “I’m laughing cause you are amazing and resilient. I’m laughing cause you surprise me. Today you saved your entire potions class, faced down a demoness, cast an invisibility spell that none of us could crack and now you are giving me shit while you are in my bathtub.”

  
“Okay, you win,” Grace said, gently washing her body with a soapy cloth. It was kinda funny that she was picking on him from the comfort of his bathtub. “Sorry, I’m not trying to be prickly.” She ducked her head back, wetting her hair and started to wash it.

  
He left her to wash in silence for a few minutes but eventually called out to her again. “Grace? Were you ever going to tell us?”

  
“Tell you what?” she asked.

  
“About the threats? The bullying? The dick pics?” Any of it?”

  
She took her time rinsing out her hair. She didn’t want to answer those questions. First, she tried to think of some funny way to deflect or change the conversation, but she was too tired to play games. So she just told him the truth. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  
She got out of the water, disgusted by the rusty colour it now was and wrapped herself in a big fluffy orange towel. It was really soft on her skin, only causing the mildest of discomfort where it touched the worst of her wounds. She took a second one and started to towel dry her hair.

  
“Grace,” he said her name softly through the door. “We need to talk about this.” He growled in frustration. “I’m not good with words but I’m gonna try. This had to stop! You were scared enough that you rubbed poison on your skin every day before you went to class. You were terrified enough that you would have rather died alone in the dark then let,” he paused for half a second, “us find you. You can’t keep going on this way or you will die. Please trust someone.”

  
She sat down and laid her back against the door as well. “I can’t.” For a moment, she imagined had they were sitting together without the door in the way. She pictured how it would feel to lean on that broad back of his and feel his warmth against her. “Because tomorrow, if Diavolo or Lucifer decreed it any of you would lead me to that office to face whatever punishment they desired.”

  
“I wouldn’t,” Beel said, sounding a wounded.

  
“That's a lie, even you are scared of them,” she said. “Demons, human, everyone lies. I just can’t trust anyone anymore. It hurts too much when that trust gets betrayed.”

  
He sat silent for a while. “What if I offered you something stronger than trust? Something I couldn’t break.”

  
It took Grace a second to realize what he was getting at. “A pact?”

  
“A pact. I would be yours to command.”

  
Grace got up from the door. “Not funny, Beel! Pacts are serious.”

  
“So am I!” he said. “I promise, I would ask for the tiniest piece of your soul in return, but let me do this.”

  
He sounded so sincere, but she shook her head. Then realizing he couldn’t see the motion, she answered with words. “No.”

  
“No?” he repeated, sounding wounded. “Why not?”

She didn’t reply. Grace slid silently into his pyjamas wishing she had anything else to wear in this situation. But her choices were limited to PJ’s that smelled like him, bath towels or her blood-soaked uniform.

  
“Grace, I deserve an answer.”

  
She didn’t have the words to answer him with. She couldn’t untangle her emotions enough to find the right words. Oh, she wished there was some other way out of this room right now, or that she knew how she had managed to upgrade her ‘do not see me' spell. She couldn’t stay here all night, and there was a demon on the other side of the door waiting for an answer. No use beating around the bush, she took a deep breath, steeled herself and warned him that she was about to open the door.

  
Stepping into the main room in his PJ’s that were far too long for her but only somewhat too big, Grace still felt very naked and vulnerable. Beel looked at her, their unfinished conversation still hanging between them. He opened his mouth to try to press the topic, and Grace uncomfortably combed her fingers through her hair, unconsciously shifting it off her shoulder and revealing the bite mark.

  
His eyes fell on the wound, and he growled. Grace took a step back from him, setting one foot back on the cool tile floor of the bathroom. “I’m going to kill her.”

  
“No!” Grace shouted.

  
“Why not?” he asked. “Is Satan right? Do you want to finish the job yourself?”

  
“No!” Grace protested. “Maybe? Fuck, I don’t know. Do I have to decide right this minute?”

  
“I’d appreciate it if you could, because I know I’d sleep a hell of a lot better if I battered her into a paste and cooked her.”

  
Beel’s words triggered a memory. Xantara’s threat echoed in Grace’s ears. She had said ‘maybe I should cook you into a meatloaf for Beel’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one needs a part three. I really need to shift perspective back to Beel for the last part. If I thought he wasn't a happy camper now, wait until he finds out about the meatloaf comment.


	15. The Famished Sixth-Born - Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beel is stuck with a problem he can't solve with his fists and words are not his friend.

Beel thought he’d been handling the situation really well all things considered. He had managed not to lose his temper when he had finally found Grace as seen the evidence of the fight all over her body. Beel had done his best to not use things he had learned about her from that one delicious bite in their conversation. He had given her space when all he wanted to do was hold her and make the pain go away. Even though he selfishly wanted to keep her to himself, he had at least texted his siblings to let them know she was found. Okay, he had lied about where he was taking her cause he didn’t want the lot of them crashing into his room while she got cleaned up. Unfortunately, his good intentions went out the window when he actually saw the bite mark on her shoulder.

  
It had been one thing to know that it was there. He had tasted the evidence of the act, after all. However, seeing that actual damage on her body was another thing entirely. Rage clouded his vision temporarily, and he clenched his fists. He no longer cared what anyone else thought. Xantara was going to die and no one was going to stop him. Not Satan, not Lucifer and if the soon-to-be King of Devildom knew what was good for him, he’d stay out of the way too.

  
Grace took a step backwards into the bathroom, and her face went pale. Her body began to tremble and she sank to the floor. There was a look of sheer terror on her face and he tried to think what he might have said to scare her. He ran the last few minutes back in his mind, and the last thing he had said was a threat to devour Xantara. That wasn’t unusual. He often threatened to eat people, inanimate objects, and anything in between that wasn't nailed down. Then he cursed his insensitivity. It was not the thing to say to someone with a chunk bitten out of her.

  
Beel sat down on the ground too. He didn’t want to be completely towering over her. “Grace.” He said her name softly and lowered his head and tried to look in her eyes. They were unfocused, whatever she was seeing it wasn’t the here and now. “Grace. You know I would never eat you, right?” He felt bad about the lie so added qualifiers to it in his mind. ‘I would never eat you, again.’ No, that was probably still a lie. If he had thought that she had smelled delicious it was nothing compared to how she actually tasted. ‘I would never eat you again without your permission.’ That was closer to the truth.

  
She didn’t answer him. Beel wasn’t even sure if she could hear him right now. He was torn with indecision, should he touch her? Would that just make it worse? He slid a little closer to her on the floor and watched her face for a reaction. “Grace?”

  
“You wouldn’t have known,” she whispered, her eyes still far away.

  
Okay, she was talking, that was a good start. “What wouldn’t I have known?”

  
“Meatloaf.”

  
Beel wasn’t sure what that meant other than being certain that wasn’t her request for dinner. He repeated the word back to her. “Meatloaf?”

  
Grace bit her lip and nodded.

  
He slid a tiny bit closer to her, still being very aware of her body language. “What about meatloaf?” he asked.

  
Her next words were almost inaudible. Beel had to lean closer to hear them at all. “She would have fed me to you as a meatloaf.”

  
Beel narrowly avoided slamming a fist down onto the bathroom floor. As it was, when he set his hand there gently the impact was still enough to crack the tiles. Words escaped him. While he struggled to string even random syllables together, she continued talking.

  
“You would have eaten me.”

  
What could he say to that? He wanted to deny it, but he had already lied once tonight and didn’t want to do it again. It was true. He ate anything. It wasn’t even an exaggeration. Fuck, when distracted or hungry enough he was known to eat cutlery and the occasional houseplant. There was no way he would have turned down food freely offered to him. A wave of nausea hit him, more intense than the time he had eaten the entire contents of the pantry and once it passed for the first time since his fall from the heavens Beel had no appetite at all.

  
He reached across and gathered Grace’s cold and trembling hands in his. “Then let’s make sure that can never happen. Make the pact with me. Command me not to eat you, then it couldn’t happen. Not even accidentally.” So much for not lying. Beel wasn’t sure that a command like that could actually prevent him from accidental ingestion. Though he could guarantee that after tasting her once, there was no way that he could do it by accident now. Beel knew that this was not the time to mention that he’d already eaten a part of her.

  
He looked her in the eyes and wished he could make her feel his sincerity. “Please, Grace?” he asked.

  
Her twilight blue eyes looked at him filled with indecision. Beel watched the emotions war within them but said nothing more afraid to tip the balance in the wrong direction. She finally nodded and he let out the breath he was holding. “That’s a yes?” Beel asked. “I need you to say the word aloud.”

  
“Yes,” Grace said with a little nod. “I will form a pact with you.” Her voice trembled, but that was understandable given everything that had happened today.

  
“It is traditional to seal the bargain with a kiss,” Beel said. There were other ways, some quite obvious when it came to giving part of your soul to the avatar of gluttony but a kiss would be least intrusive of them all. “May I?”

  
Grace nodded again, then seemed to remember that he needed to hear her consent spoken. “Yes.”

  
Beel crawled on his knees closing the distance between them. He gently tipped her head up and softly claiming her lips. So aware of how traumatized she was, he did his best to be considerate when stealing that piece of her soul. It settled into in him, and he marvelled at how it seemed to fit into place, filling an empty space in him. He smiled, satisfied knowing that he would always have a part of her even when her flesh was digested.

  
Solidifying their new pact seemed to exhaust her, and Grace’s eyes drifting closed while she was resting her forehead on his. He waited a few moments, enjoying the peace of the contact before carefully picking her up and shifting her to the bed.  
While he went to find where he had set down his DDD, Grace squirmed on his bed making what was almost a fort from his pillows. Beel sighed sadly. He knew it was unreasonable for him to expect anything to change for the positive between them immediately but it stung that she felt the need to hide.

  
Beel laid down on the bed as well and turned on the device. As he waded through the explosion of messages that resulted from his earlier lie, he felt a light touch on his arm. Grace had snaked an arm out from her nest and had rested her hand on his skin. Beel smiled as he typed a private message to Lucifer updating the eldest on the new information he’d gathered from Grace, enjoying the way she moved her fingers along his arm. He turned his phone off again and decided to wait to tell Lucifer about the pact in person. The look on his face was going to be priceless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that is the ending of Beel & Grace's story. It is continued in One Taste is Not Enough
> 
> If you haven't figured it out by now sorry, not sorry I am a horrible person and I'm going to torment these characters mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this ending and now I'm off to give Asmo some attention. He was quite miffed that Beel got a part three.


	16. The Narcissistic Fifth-Born - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asmo teams up with an old friend to find Grace

To say that Asmodeus was not happy would be an understatement. Once they were all dismissed from Lord Diavolo’s presence, the six siblings had immediately begun arguing. While the consensus had been that this disaster was Mammon’s fault as it was his official job to protect her, a couple of his brothers felt there was more than enough blame to go around and that Asmo deserved the second-largest share of it. Heated words were exchanged and all had separated making their own plans to find Grace.

  
Fine, if they were going to be assholes, he didn’t want to help them anyway. The problem was, Asmo had no idea of his own of how to locate Grace.

  
His powers were not well suited to this kind of detective work. Without a doubt his powers of persuasion were legendary. If there were witnesses to question, he could have solved it in a heartbeat. However, Xantara was the only person he could have questioned and she had been unconscious when Grace disappeared from the room. Asmo could recruit people to do his bidding and join the search, but since demon lords themselves were unable to sense her presence, most of those he could recruit would be useless.

  
If only he and Grace had been lovers, this situation would have been easier, but despite his many propositions in that direction, subtle or otherwise, they were not. Sexual magic was a very versatile and powerful thing. Asmo might have to try harder to remedy that situation, for her own safety of course. Though she was remarkably strong-willed in that area, seemingly immune to any attempts at supernatural persuasion.

  
At a loss, Asmodeus found himself back at the scene of the crime. He knew that if there was anything to find here, Satan would have found it. His brother was clever and observant like that. However, this was the place Asmo had lost her, so it was here he was drawn back to.

  
“No one has found her yet?” a voice said from the doorway.

  
Asmo turned to see Solomon leaning in the door frame.

  
“It's not like you to ask a question to which the answer is obvious,” Asmo replied. “How did your meeting with Diavolo go?”

  
“It was exhaustingly detailed.” He stepped into the room and surveyed the bloodstains that had dried on the floor. He gave a low whistle. “I think we all may have underestimated her.” To anyone else, Solomon’s voice would have sounded casual. Asmodeus, however, was an expert on almost all things human and he could hear an undertone of curiosity mixed with possibly desire. That was new.

  
“I think that is a topic we can discuss after she has been found,” he replied, not bothering to hide his irritation.

  
Solomon looked at him and tilted his head. “Does it make you feel better to place some of the blame on my shoulders? If so, go right ahead, they can handle it.” Solomon gave a tiny smile.

  
“Solomon, what do you want?” Asmodeus asked.

  
“Do you realize how fast you drop the pet names when you are irritated?” Solomon paused and tacked on, “Darling?”

  
“Do you realize how much damage I could do to you before you command me to stop?” Asmo replied.

  
“I’m very much aware of all your talents. It’s why I chose to make a pact with you.” Solomon smiled as he answered. “I enjoy and appreciate all your diverse skills.”

  
“I repeat Solomon, what do you want?”

  
“I came to offer my assistance.”

  
“Why?” Asmo asked. Solomon never did anything that wouldn’t benefit him in the long run.

  
“Perhaps I feel a kinship with my fellow human.”

  
Asmo arched an elegant eyebrow and waited.

  
“Perhaps I feel like it might make me a friend in a very high place, indeed. Diavolo very much wants her found.”

  
Asmo continued waiting, looking expectantly at Solomon.

  
“Perhaps I fear her death might bring an end to the program and limit my ability to recruit new demons to forge pacts with.” Solomon shrugged and smiled brightly. “It could be any of those, all of those or none of those. It could be that I just wanted to help my friend. We are friends, aren’t we Asmo?”

  
Asmo wasn’t sure that friend was the word he would use to define his current relationship with Solomon. There actually wasn’t a word in English, the Demonic or the Celestial tongues which could explain what they were to each other. Friend, adversary, ally, lover, all of them could have been applied at some point in their history and were all equally inadequate.

  
So Asmo ignored the question and got down to business. He was not in the mood to play games with Solomon while Grace was missing. “And how do you think you can help?”

  
“I think I may have figured out how she is hiding.”

  
Asmo flew across the room in a blur and wrapped a hand around Solomon’s throat lifting him from the ground. “And you wait until now to bring this to someone’s attention?”

  
“Asmodeus, this is no time for foreplay,” Solomon chastised between shallow breaths. “You wouldn’t want to keep a lady waiting, would you?” Asmo released his grip, and Solomon regained his footing and straightened his uniform. “I only put the pieces together while I was with Diavolo. He mentioned that there was no trace of her. We all believed she had no natural inclination or talent for spellcraft, correct?” Asmo nodded, and Solomon continued. “In potions class, she was wearing a spell and it shattered just as the conflict began. It was barely anything, very weak. I only caught it out of the corner of my eye and thought nothing of it.”

  
Asmo picked up his train of thought. “I see where you are going with this.” His mind connected the dots. Asmo had already witnessed Grace unconventionally defend herself. It would make sense if she had figured out how to manage the most elementary spell craft she would keep that information to herself, another hidden weapon in her arsenal. What would she want most? To not be noticed, and if that spell was powered by fear of death… Asmo finished the thought out loud. “She accidentally turned herself invisible.” He couldn’t help but smile even though he was worried. “Solomon, can you break it?”

  
“I should be able to. There are only three or four main variations of the spell and she likely used the most common, but it is unlikely anyone would think she would be capable of casting it which makes it very likely no one else had thought to try to dispel it.”

  
“Solomon, you are brilliant.” Impulsively Asmo kissed him on the cheek.

  
“Now who is stating the obvious?” Solomon replied. “Now be quiet and let me concentrate.” Solomon chanted something quickly in Latin and traced a rune in the air. There was a sound like breaking glass. When he opened his eyes, Solomon looked smug. “Now, let’s go find your princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually very interested in the potential dynamics between Asmo and Solomon. Also, would like to know his actual motivation for helping his "friend"


	17. The Narcissistic Fifth-Born - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asmodeus and Solomon have successfully found Grace and take her back to the House of Lamentation.

Solomon and Asmo finally found Grace in the greenhouse. Despite the magically created warmth, Asmo could see that her body was shivering. Without thinking he closed the distance between them and reached toward her, stopping his hand just a finger length from touching her. “Dammit,” Asmo swore. “Solomon, I need you to pick her up.”

  
Solomon tilted his head in curiosity and stepped up alongside the demon. “You’ve never had trouble picking up women in the past. Losing your touch?”

  
“Asshole,” Asmo hissed at him. “She’s wearing a topical poison. If she amplified her minor spell, there’s a chance she did the same to the potion she’s been rubbing into her skin daily.”

  
Solomon arched an eyebrow as he added this new bit of information to his understanding of the situation. “Don’t want to risk those smooth, supple hands of yours?” Solomon teased.

  
“Never mind, I’ll do it.” Asmo countered, crouching.

  
Solomon laid a hand on the demon’s shoulder. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “I shouldn’t be mocking you at a time like this.” His tone seemed sincerely apologetic. Solomon easily lifted her from the ground and rested her head on his shoulder. Grace groaned but did not open her eyes. Solomon stroked her hair with a feather-light touch. Once she settled, he turned his eyes to Asmodeus. “Poison?”

  
Asmo nodded, his hands aching to be to ones that were soothing her. “Things were far worse for her here than any of us suspected and she had been taking precautions.” Not being able to touch her directly at the moment, he took off his uniform blazer and tucked it around her. If she was cold here, the outside air would be freezing.

  
“How curious.” He commented. They left the greenhouse, and slowly crossed the academy grounds. Though the night was not much darker in this realm than the day the nocturnal animals were singing.

  
“So, it is true then, that she has no pacts with any of the avatars?” Soloman asked, “She is incredibly brave or incredibly foolish. Even with my own skills, I knew the wisdom of having you should I find myself out of my depth.”

  
Asmo paused not sure if he wanted to comment on Solomon’s boasting or his assessment of Grace’s character. Instead, he chose to do neither and just stayed silent.

  
However, Solomon was not content to stay silent. “Perhaps one of you should remedy that?”

  
“Lucifer terrifies her. Mammon is at best a moron and at worst an incompetent idiot. Levi never leaves his room and is more interested in pixel women than the one living under his roof. Beel would never make the offer. He’s too shy and probably worried about accidentally hurting her himself.” Asmo contemplated it for a second and couldn’t see an obvious problem with Satan though. “Maybe I could approach Satan on the topic.”

  
“Maybe you should offer Grace your services? The all-inclusive bundle I mean, and not just the hands-on inspection that you constantly offer her the free trial of.”

  
Asmo stopped mid-stride. “I’m already in a pact with you and serving two masters sounds exhausting. We both know how important my beauty sleep is to me.” He was both joking and entirely serious.

  
“Ah, so you have thought about it then,” Solomon commented.

  
Of course, Asmodeus had thought about it. Their human had fascinated him from the first moment she had set one foot into the manor. She should have been an easy conquest. Girls of her physical type were often just grateful for the attention of someone like him. But, she’s rebuffed all of his flirtations, so Asmo had changed tactics and transformed into the affectionate best friend. While it had been partly successful, it still had not gotten the results he had desired. Grace had relaxed enough around him to allow casual contact. He could style her hair, apply her make up, and give her occasional playful kiss on the cheek or hand, but there was still a distance between them.

  
“I wouldn’t mind sharing you,” Solomon said, breaking Asmo’s contemplative silence.

“I’m not a milkshake you can stick a second straw in.” Asmo snapped.

  
Solomon chuckled, “And here I thought you were in ‘the more the merrier’ camp?”

  
“In sex, yes, but pacts are deeper and more intimate than sex,” Asmo said.

  
“And you only want to be that intimate with me?” Solomon asked in a teasing tone. “I’m flattered.” Seeing the darkening look on Asmo’s face, he continued talking but in a more serious tone. “Seriously, consider it. After this do you really think that any of them as capable of taking care of her as you? Or better yet, reflect on whether you want them to.”

  
They had made it to the House of Lamentation and from outside the house was dark. Asmo’s brothers must still be out. Good. He opened the door for Solomon, and they proceeded up the steps. “Take her to my room.” Solomon smiled but made no comment. Asmo answered the implication in the silence anyways. “My tub is bigger and I’ve salves and balms to treat her there.”

  
Solomon chuckled, “Don’t get used to being to one to give the orders.” However, he obeyed anyway with a smile on his lips the entire time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Which one is the demon again? ;)


	18. The Narcissistic Fifth-Born - Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asmo offers Grace a helping hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some smut in this chapter. Smut not my strong suit but hello we have the Avatar of Lust in this story so it is pretty much a given at some point.

When Grace first started to return to her senses, she realized that she was floating in water and fully dressed. The water was warm and smelled a little like strawberries. She opened her eyes and her throbbing head was pleasantly surprised to find that the lights in the room were dimmed. She was less pleasantly surprised to realize that she was currently floating in Asmodeus’ bathtub. That word hardly did it justice, as it was larger than most hotel hotels. It was sunken into the floor and had a series of stairs leading into it.

  
“Ah, Sleeping Beauty awakens,” his voice said from the shadows. “How are you feeling?”

  
“Like I just lost a cat fight,” Grace replied, sitting up and pulling her head out of the water.

  
“From where I am sitting, you won that fight.” Asmodeus came closer. No wonder she’d had a hard time seeing him. He was wearing a silky bathrobe that shimmered with flecks of gold and copper. Asmo sat down on the edge and dipped his feet in the water.

  
“Win or lose, I still think I’m screwed,” Grace said, tugging at the sodden ribbon that was her makeshift bandage. “Why am I not in a dungeon?”

  
Asmo beamed at her. “My dear Grace, I had no idea that you had inclinations in that direction. After we get you cleaned up, I’d be more than happy to give you a personal tour.”

  
Grace closed her eyes and sighed. He just wanted to cry. She did not have the energy to deal with Asmo’s playful flirty side right now. “Seriously, how is he going to punish me?”

  
“Oh, did you already make a play date with someone else?” Asmo pouted. “I have to admit I’m a little jealous.”

  
That pushed Grace from wanting to cry to having a full-on meltdown. Here she was, afraid that she was going to be executed and he couldn’t be serious for one fucking minute.

  
Asmo looked shocked for a second, but recovered swiftly, sliding along the ledge to sit nearer to her. He dipped a washcloth in the water and started to wipe the tears from her face. “Shh . . . It’s okay.”

  
Grace slapped his hand away and sniffled. “You’ve got a strange definition of okay. Don’t you get it?! I killed someone!!”

  
Saying the words aloud made the reality of it all hit her like a gut punch. Grace had killed someone. She covered her mouth with her hand and started to hyperventilate.

  
Asmo slid into the water with her and lifted her face up so that she was looking at him. “You didn’t kill anyone, and trust me, she’s going to wish you had.”

  
“I didn’t?” Grace thought about, and shook her head, disagreeing with him. “I checked for a pulse. I didn’t feel one.”

  
“I imagine finding the pulse on someone not of your species would be hard at the best of times let alone while going into shock.” His voice was calm and gentle. “But, I can confirm with my own eyes and hands that she’s alive.”

  
She swallowed back the bile that was rising in her throat. Grace tried to process the chaotic mess of emotions she was experiencing. Asmo said nothing while she did this just softly rubbed her back. After some time, she looked up at him and asked, “So what happens now?”

  
“Now, we get you out of those clothes and get you fixed up. I must admit I’m looking forward to the first part.” He slid his hand up her back to her ribbon. The wet fabric resisted his tugging and her shoulder throbbed painfully. The pain grounded her a little and cleared her mind.

  
“Asmo, I can undress myself.” Grace protested.

  
“But why would you want to?” he asked, smiling brightly.

  
“Because I don’t want you looking at my naked body!” She slowly got out of his bath, so very grateful for the steps.

  
Asmo sighed and got out as well. “If you insist, my darling. I promise not to look at your naked body.” He walked over to a vanity that was sitting next to the wall, and his wet bathrobe left a damp trail on the tiles. “I’ve put some of your pyjama’s here.” With a pout on his face, he reluctantly left the room.

  
Grace slowly made her way there to where he had left the PJs. Her wet uniform weighed heavily on her body, amplifying the exhaustion in her limbs. She looked at the neatly stacked fabric and picked it up carefully. “Hey Asmo?” she called loudly.

  
“Yes?” his answer was soft and right by her ear.

  
She squeaked and jumped. When had he come back into the room? More importantly, why was he wearing a blindfold? And why did it match his boxers?

  
“One. These aren’t mine,” she stammered, taking a step backwards from him. “Two. Get the hell out!!!”

  
“One. I bought them for you, so they are yours even if you hadn’t seen them yet. Two. You said you didn’t want me to see you naked. I can’t see you.”

  
“Not the point!”

  
“With the way you are moving there is no way you are getting that bra unhooked or that skirt unzipped without help. Both are drenched and neither will be comfortable to sleep in.”

  
Grace wanted to ask him exactly how many times he’d fallen asleep in a bra but decided she really didn’t want to know the answer. Given her choices and her ever declining energy level, she surrendered the point and hoped she wouldn’t regret it later.

  
“Fine, but first-“ She snatched his blindfold and placed it over her own eyes, checking to see how sheer it was.

  
“Don’t trust me, princess?” Asmo said sadly. ‘I’m wounded.”

  
“You aren’t yet but you will be if you get too handsy.” Satisfied that he wouldn’t be able to see through it, Grace tied it back in place over his eyes. Firmly. “You stand right where you are and I’ll tell you when I need help.”

  
“Your wish is my command, dearest.”

  
Even though she knew he couldn’t see her, Grace felt very self-conscious as she finally worked the last knot of the bandage free. Then she shrugged off the blazer and dropped it on the floor. Each movement took more energy than the last. Next came the blouse, if Grace hadn’t tested the blindfold herself she would have sworn he was peeking because his smile grew a little with each button she slipped through its hole. She added the ruined blouse to the growing pile on the floor.

  
“Okay, your turn. Hold out your arm.” Asmo did as he was told without complaint. “I’ll put your hand on my shoulder and you can follow the strap downward.” She turned her back to him and stepped into his space. Just being close to him made the air feel warmer. Grace took his hand in hers and guided it to her shoulder. “This is the one that is bitten, stick to your objective and no wandering off the beaten path.”

  
“You’re kinda sexy when you are bossy.”Asmo ran his finger up and down the strap on her shoulder, before following it down her back. She could feel his breath near her ear, and without meaning to she matched her own breathing to his. Asmo moved his hand at a snail’s pace almost as if he was counting each eyelet on the strap. Without consciously meaning to Grace tiled her head exposing more her neck to him.

  
Once his fingers found the back panel he brought up his other hand. He moved both thumbs along the line of the elastic, caressing her back through the fabric. Grace arched so very slightly into his touch. Maintaining the glacial pace he had set for himself, Asmo unhooked each of the four hooks keeping her bra in place. Grace knew if she’d let him, Asmo would slide it off her, and she was so very close to letting him do just that. However, self-control won out and she let out a short breath and stepped away from his body. “Thank you, I’ve got it from here.” With a little groan of pain, she took her bra the rest of the way off and dropped it in the slowly growing pile of clothing.

  
Her heart pounding from just that little of his touch, Grace was hesitant to draw closer again. She experimentally tried to reach behind her to grasp the zipper pull. She hissed as her shoulder refused to comply.

  
“Grace,” Asmo chided. “I’ve behaved so far, haven’t I? Let me do it.”

  
“Arms up,” she said with a sigh. “And wipe that smirk off your face. I can see it in the mirror.”

  
He laughed and held his arms up. Once more she stepped back in his space. She guided his hands, putting each one on a hip.

“Probably cracked some ribs. Please be careful.”

  
“I could be more careful if I could see what I’m doing,” he offered helpfully, gently stroking his fingers on her hip.

  
“Asmo,” she said his name as a warning.

  
He chuckled at her in reply. Both hands slid along the waistband of the skirt in a perfectly synchronized pace, his thumbs just teasing at dipping below it. This time a tiny moan did escape her lips as he slid the zipper down at an agonizingly slow speed. The skirt slid down her body, pooling on the tiled floor. His hands went back to their starting position on her waist and he tugged at her underwear. “I could help you with these, too,” he murmured in her ear.

  
Caught in the moment, she said in a whisper, “Yes.”

  
His hands slid down her hips, but they did not take the underwear with them She could feel his breath tickle along her back as he lowered himself to his knees. “I never said I was going to use my hands.” He kissed the small of back once before his teeth grasped her underwear with the greatest of precision. Without the aid of his hands, he tugged them down the generous curve of her ass.  
Grace wished he was in front of her so that she could tangle her fingers in her hair. Instead, her hands balled into fists and her fingernails cut into her palms. His name escaped her lips as a moan. Once Asmo successfully had navigated the fabric past her thighs, the underwear fell the rest of the way to the floor without aid.

  
As if he knew that words would break the magic of the moment, he said nothing, Asmodeus climbed his way back up her body with kisses. He slid his hands up along her thighs. Grace’s heart was hammering and her breathing was reduced to short excited pants.

  
She would have allowed herself to have been carried away by it all, except for one unfortunate turn of events. As his hands continued to find their way up her body, one of his thumbs caught in the puncture left from Xantara’s heel. Grace yelped with pain and stepped away from Asmo. She almost tripped on her own underwear.

  
He snatched the blindfold off, and his eyes landed on the wound, now weakly seeping blood. “What did that?” Asmo demanded.

  
“Her heel,” Grace said, as she turned to face him.

  
“Fuck,” he said, staring at her body. The look on his face was horrified. Disgusted even.

  
Tears welled up in her eyes. Looking at her body made disgusted him. After all the pretty words, that was the truth. She hated herself for allowing herself to trust him. She should have known better.

  
“Dammit Asmo, I told you I didn’t want you to see me naked.” She fled the room, snagging a towel from a wall rack as she went. She couldn’t stand that look in his eyes and she had to get away. Even if it meant running back to her room in a towel. Grace heard him call her name but she didn't look back.


	19. The Narcissistic Fifth-Born - Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very confused Asmodeus tries to figure out what just happened.

Confused, Asmodeus watched Grace flee the room. He ran his fingers through his hair and tried to figure out what just happened. Moments ago they had been closer than they had ever been, and he wasn’t meaning just physically. He finally glimpsed what laid on the other side of those thick walls she hid behind. That brief taste wasn’t going to be enough. He wanted more.

  
Letting her leave like this and hide was not an option. Not now that he’d seen the full extent of the damage to her body. He opened his cabinets and grabbed some salves and enchanted bandages. He stepped into his room, grabbed a new robe, this time thick plush one with pockets. He dropped the medical supplies in one and his DDD in the other. If Grace was too stubborn to let him help, then Asmo would summon an actual healer.

  
There was no noise coming from her room. Asmo almost felt guilty knocking, and disturbing her if she was already asleep. “Honey, you awake?”

  
“Go away.” Her voice was loud enough to come through the door but sounded muffled.

  
“I’m glad I didn’t wake you. Though I must say after today you do deserve some uninterrupted beauty sleep. However, I’m not going anywhere. You have a choice me, or I summon Agriorth. You are not spending the night with that bite or that stab untended.” He waited listening carefully for her to make any sound. Nothing. “Agriorth it is.”

  
He stepped away from the door, disappointed but not beaten. He faked a loud, but brief and sad conversation on his DDD and a couple minutes later came back to her door. “Sorry sweetie, Agriorth is busy attending a delivery at the moment. Both the mother and the father come from tentacled species and it's being a challenging birth. So if you won’t let me in, will you let one of my siblings in?”

  
Asmo smiled, this was a horrible situation, but at least he could gauge her reactions to his siblings this way. Solomon was right, if she was going to make it through this year Grace was going to need a pact. Sure, some of the students would be intimated by what Grace had done to Xantara but others would only take that as a challenge. As clever as Grace’s tricks had been, they wouldn’t be effective twice. Whoever she asked for right now, Asmo would support as a candidate for Grace forging a pact.

  
“Lucifer?”

  
Grace squeaked in response.

  
“That’s a no?” Asmo said with a smile as he leaned on the door. “Hmmm. Mammon?

  
“Does he actually know first aid?” Grace asked.

  
Does that actually mean she’d consider him? “Your right, no he doesn’t.”

  
“Levi?”

  
Grace opened the door. “I didn’t want any of you to ever see me naked, so since the damage is done, I guess it’s you. Get in here.”

  
“Did I mention how hot you are when you are bossy?” Asmo almost got the door slammed in his face, but put his leg in the way. Ouch, that was going to bruise. “Sorry, I can’t help it.”

  
Grace stomped back to her bed. She was wearing a pair men’s pyjamas that were at least two sizes too big and of all things . . . Flannel. “Oh honey, those are truly one of the most monstrous things I’ve ever seen. Why aren’t you wearing any of the pretty ones I gave you?”

  
“Asmo, just do what you came to do and please shut the fuck up.”

  
She sat down on the bed. Asmo saw Grace close her eyes and steel herself before taking off the top. If asked, Asmo would like to say the first things he looked at where the incredibly dark and painful bruises that almost covered her left side. It would be a lie, but he would like to say it. No, his eyes went first to the breasts that he had barely seen before she had fled in a panic. They were large and so very beautiful. His eyes caressed what his hands would like to, and his mouth wondered if she would still taste like strawberry. His hands wanted to hold them, support them while his thumbs wanted to tease those dark nipples to life. Asmo licked his lips.

  
“Asmo. I’m getting cold.” Grace complained, her eyes still closed. “Are we doing this or what?”

  
“Sorry,” First he took the jar of salve from his pocket. He rubbed some between his fingers warming it. He’d start with her neck. He pooled the salve into the deep parts of the indentation left by the bite. Grace hissed out a breath but then sighed as the medicine soothed the pain. “I picked these bandages up on Akuzon and they are wonderful.” He started to peel the back from the larger one. “They are chameleon spelled to hide the wound, and also are a temporary tattoo. When the tattoo fades you know you are all healed.” Asmo gently moved to the over to the other side of her neck making sure none would get caught in the adhesive. His fingers lingered on her skin for a touch longer than they should and he almost leaned down to kiss right under her ear. But while Grace herself was not saying much to him, her body was trying to tell him many things and no was definitely near the top of that list.

  
As he smoothed the bandage into place, he tried to sort through the messages. Her stiff spine told him that she was uncomfortable and on alert. The way she tilted her head into his hand while he moved her hair said that she wanted comfort. Her hands were clenching at her PJ bottoms were a signal of anger or frustration, and Asmo couldn’t miss the odd tear was sliding down her cheek. Instead of wiping them away and drawing attention to them, Asmo instead climbed onto the bed and settled behind her.

  
“My first tattoo and I didn’t even get to pick it myself, how presumptuous of you,” Grace said.

  
Asmo could hear she was trying to bring things back to normal between them, but he wasn’t sure he wanted them to go back. “I did say they were temporary. If you ever want I real one, I introduce you to an artist I know. I can guarantee she has amazingly steady hands.”

  
Grace laughed but it was a hollow sound. She was laughing because it was expected of her to laugh, not because she meant it.

  
Asmo repeated the process he’d used on her shoulder on the wound on the back. Grace was more relaxed this time, familiar with the salve and how it felt. For her shoulder, Asmo had chosen a spiderweb but he was happier with his choice for her back. It was a black rose, like the ones on his demon form’s attire. He traced the line of the flower in the air above the bandage.

  
“You can go now, right?” Grace asked abruptly.

  
“You’re ribs-“ he protested.

  
“Leave me the salve. I can manage.”

  
He got off of the bed, and held out the jar to Grace. When she tried to take it, Asmo held on to it tight. Grace looked up at him with irritation and Asmo made sure to capture her eyes. “Why are you angry at me, Grace?”

  
She tugged.”I’m not angry."

  
Asmo arched his eyebrow.

  
“I’m not angry at you.” She corrected, letting go. Grace reached and slid her pyjama top one over her head. He wasn’t sure if it was to hide her nudity or as an excuse not to look at him. Once it was settled over her body, her eyes stayed on the floor. “I’m angry at me.”

  
Asmo took the chair from her desk and flipped it around, He straddled it, crossed his arms on its back. Resting his chin on his arms, Asmo asked. “Why are you angry at yourself?”

  
“For not knowing better,” she muttered. “I can’t be mad at you. You are, who you are. Asmodeus, Avatar of the sin of Lust. You flirt as easy as you breathe, and for a few minutes there I thought…”

  
Her voice trailed off and Asmo prompted her to continue. “You thought what?”

  
“Never mind. Point is I’m not mad at you so you can go to sleep with a clear conscience. Actually is that even a thing you can do?”

  
“You are deflecting, princess.” He noticed she had a tendency to do that. Get too close for comfort and Grace would change the subject. Usually with a joke, or an odd observation. It was mostly an endearing trait except for time like now when he needed the truth.

  
“Stop it.” If she had more energy, Asmo was sure she would have shouted. It was firm though. “No more princess, darling, sweetheart, beautiful any of it, kay? I know you don’t mean it, so just stop!”

  
“Who said I don’t mean it?” Asmo asked, feeling a little wounded.

  
“You’re eyes did. When you looked at me. When you looked at all of me.” There was a long pause. “You looked disgusted.” She let that last word hang in the air. Grace blinked her eyes sadly and then shook her head. “So can we just stop with the pretences, okay? I know what I look like, Asmo. I’m not blind and there is certainly no lack of mirrors in this house.” Grace tried to look strong, to keep the tears inside.

  
“You are beautiful,” Asmo said with complete sincerity. “I was shocked by the wounds that were inflicted on your body. Angered and disgusted at those. Not you, never you!” He reached a hand out toward her.

  
“Liar! Just get out! Get the hell out now!” Grace yelled at him. He had never seen her like this with all her masks stripped totally away. All of her emotions so close to the surface.

  
“You are beautiful,” Asmo repeated, truthfully. He could see that she doubted him. Asmo knew his words were falling on deaf ears. “How do I make you believe me?”

  
“You can’t. There is nothing you can say that will make me believe you.” Grace said. “Now, get out!!!”

  
But, he didn’t want to leave. Asmo didn’t want to let her continue to think such horrible thoughts. If he left now, then she would continue to believe that he found her repulsive when nothing could be further from the truth. How could he make Grace see the truth when she wouldn’t listen to his words and showing her in actions was off the table.

  
Solomon’s words about a pact came back to him. If Asmo offered her a pact, not only could he protect her if she called on him, she could use it to compel the truth from him. She would have no way to doubt his words then.

  
“What if you could be guaranteed that I was speaking the truth?”

  
“I can’t cast truth spells and even if I could greater demons are usually immune to them,” Grace said.

  
Asmo rose from his chair, and knelt by the bed, wisely not close enough for her to hit him. “Make a pact with me. Then command me to tell you the truth.”

  
She had been in the process of opening her mouth to yell at him again, but that made her stop. “You are offering me a pact in order to prove a point?”

  
“No, I’m offering you a pact because I want to keep you safe and because I want you to trust me.”

  
“That would involve me giving you part of my soul,” Grace replied.

  
“That fact alone should prove just how much I value you. Look at me, do you think I’d let just any substandard soul take up residence in this temple?” He gestured to himself and smiled. Grace was off balance and he needed to keep her that way. If he let her crawl all the way back into her shell this was lost.

  
“I don’t know if I want to share a temple with Solomon.”

  
“He’s so quiet, you’d never even know he was there,” Asmo said with a playful wink. “Just think of all the things that you could command me to do.”

  
He watched her eyes shift as she contemplated his offer. Then her eyes lit up with a mischievous twinkle. “Laundry,” she said softly. “I could make your perfectly manicured, soft hands do laundry.”

  
What? Oh no. He listened and Grace started listing all the inconvenient daily horrors she could inflict on him if they made the pact. She could dress him in whatever she wanted, no matter how ugly or uncomfortable. She could order him to stop his skincare routine. He might even have to help Satan organize his personal library. She, however, saved the worst for last.

  
“I could order you to give Mammon money,” she smiled evilly. “Do you really think that a pact is such a great idea now?”

  
He could see that she thought she had won and he would back down. Grace honestly believed that his feelings for her were so shallow that this would dissuade him. Grace was wrong. “Yes, I do.” She looked shocked. “Grace, will you become my Mistress? All that I am will be yours to command.”

  
The silence was long and loud while she considered it. All he could hear was his own heart beating. Finally, after what felt to him like hours, she whispered the word he had hoped to hear. “Yes.”

  
“Then may I kiss you?” Asmo asked. “It is the traditional way of sealing a pact.”

  
“Does that mean you and Solomon?” she asked.

  
“Kissed? Yes. Over the years Solomon and I have done countless things together.” Damn. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Maybe it might make her reconsider. How did Grace feel about such things? He didn’t know.

  
Grace reached toward him and tugged on his robe. “Then I guess you will have to tell me how I compare,” she said, before pressing her lips to his. They were soft and they tasted of the strawberry oil from the bath. Her tongue demanded entry and he opened his mouth eagerly for her. He was so distracted by the way her tongue stroked his own, Asmo almost forgot that he was supposed to be sealing a pact between them. There would be time for more kisses later. There would be time for more everything later. Asmo would make certain of it.

  
As gently as possible he took a small piece of her soul and made it part of himself. The experience was entirely unlike when he sealed his pact with Solomon. That had felt like a business transaction. Like he was renting a room to a stranger and handing him the keys. This felt much more personal than that.

  
He couldn’t put the sensation into words, but it came in fleeting images and feelings. Making this pact felt to Asmodeus like Grace was coming home after a long holiday. Only, instead of being able to sprawl across her favourite piece of furniture, there was someone in her seat. There was a sense of annoyance, and after a brief confrontation, the interloper would not move so the Grace just sat really obnoxiously close, used him as a footrest and stole his snacks.

  
Asmo laughed, as the images disappeared and the feelings retreated to the back of his mind. He shook his head and opened his eyes. Grace was frowning at him. Why was she frowning at him?

  
“You laughed,” she said her voice very dark. “Guess that tells me how I stack up to the great and powerful Solomon.”

  
Asmodeus opened his mouth but she spoke over him and pointed toward the door. “Please get away from me, right this second.”

  
Well, she hadn’t made it an order, but Asmo still gave her some space.

  
If he thought Grace looked tired before, it was mistaken. This is was exhaustion truly looked like. She swung her legs back into the bed and pulled her blankets up. It was clear he was dismissed and that their earlier conversation about truth and lies was put on hold.

  
“Grace.”

  
“Asmo, I’m exhausted, angry sad, upset, hungry and a hundred other things. Too much has happened today and I’m overwhelmed. And right now, I’m afraid I made a terrible irreversible mistake. Please, go.”

  
A mistake? Couldn’t she feel how right this was? Instead of leaving, he did the opposite and sat on the bed. “Grace, what we just did is more intimate than any of the sex I’ve had.” She didn’t need to compel the truth from him for Asmo to want to say it. “I want-“ No that wasn’t the right word. “I need to stay with you now, at least for tonight.” He didn’t want to be away from her. He wanted to lie next to her and listen to her breathing. He wanted to be able to reach out a hand and feel that she was still okay.

  
“Is that a part of making the pact?” she asked.

  
Asmo wanted to lie but didn’t. “No. I just selfishly want it.”

  
The truth must have been the right answer, because after giving it some thought, Grace answered, “You can sleep on top of the blankets. No negotiations.”

  
“Deal.”

  
Grace rolled over until her back was against the wall. She hugged a giant body pillow, snuggling her face into it. Asmo hadn’t ever thought he’d be jealous of a pillow. They usually weren’t something to get too worked up about, unless you were Levi and contemplating marrying one. But jealous of this pillow he was and the way she wrapped herself around it.

  
“Goodnight, princess,” Asmo said softly reaching out to lightly stroke her hair.

  
“Can it, Asmo.” She said in reply.

  
Asmo stretched and looked at her ceiling. He did not know what tomorrow was going to bring, but nothing between them was going to be the same. Asmo smiled. He was looking forward to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This brings Asmodeus' ending to a close. 
> 
> To be continued in Not the Fun Kind of Menage a Trois  
> Thank you for reading.


	20. The Cynical Fouth-Born - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satan makes a deal with creatures far more deadly that demons

Satan walked through the House of Lamentation with a clear purpose in mind. The sound of his shoes echoed down the hall. Unlike some of the others, he was not blindly rushing about. The right plan was needed, not any plan. It was definitely not that he was any less angry about the situation or any less worried about Grace’s life.

  
If anything, he was more worried. Some people would have looked at the blood and just seem it as blood. No, that room told him a more complete story. Without having seen the fight, he could picture how it went down almost blow for blow. Strands of hair on the locker room floor neat the two bloody scrapes on the tile. Grace had been dragged down to her knees by her hair. He could tell Grace at crawled by seeing that blood had smeared. The blood on Xantars’s heel wasn’t from stepping in any on the blood. That footwear had been used as a weapon.

  
He took a breath and forced the images from his mind, temporarily. First, find Grace. Second, give her the option of finishing what she started with her enemy. Three, if Grace declines the offer, then do it for her.

  
Satan entered the library. It was haunted by memories of her. Satan could still see her sitting in her favourite window seat. Glimpse her figure hunched over the table right under the lamp trying to decipher the older handwritten works. He could picture her precariously perched on the ladder trying to reach the tomes on the high shelves. This place that had been mostly his now seemed incomplete without her presence.

  
At first, he had resented her intrusion into his domain. She had been able to sense it and as a result, would flit in and out as swift as a hummingbird taking the books with her and leaving. The first time she had approached him, Satan could see that it had taken all her courage to do so. She had been struggling with a particular concept, and it was not her fault that it was hard. It was just something that didn’t translate into English well. He had almost glared at her, but then he had realized that the book wasn’t part of her curriculum. His curiosity had lead to conversation, and eventually, Grace had felt comfortable enough to study in here with him. Not that they talked much then either, but both Satan and Grace enjoyed the companionship in silence.

  
It was the books she had been reading that brought him back to this place tonight. Satan suspected that the missing piece to this puzzle was in the past. He walked the room and ran his fingers along the spines of the books he’d seen her with. A lot of them had to do with cooking, which was not a surprise given the steep learning curve when working with Devildom ingredients some of which would be fatal to humans if prepared wrong. Then some books were obviously complimentary to her classwork. Eventually, he found what he was seeking. It was an old, well-worn spellbook written in the Infernal tongue and since she hadn’t asked him to translate meant she must have attempted to do it herself.

  
Satan scanned the contents and was not shocked to see “Non videbis me” as one of the spells. He wondered if she had translated the warnings correctly and that one needed to be in a centred mental state when casting the spell. Now that he suspected he knew what she had done, but certainly not how she did it, he could, in theory, break the spell. However, breaking someone’s spell could cause the original caster pain and discomfort, neither of which she needed at the moment. Satan had a better idea.

  
He left the library and made two stops to get the supplies he needed. He went to his and then to Grace’s rooms before exiting the house and going into the garden. There was a square of perfectly maintained grass suitable for creating greater runes and casting large spells. He was going to summon aid for his search.

  
Satan meticulously poured sand into the right configuration and lit candles in the four cardinal directions. He then settled himself cross-legged in the centre. The was a breeze that ruffled his hair and carried the scent of a fruit that smelled like cherries.  
“I call to the hunters eternal. Those who tread the line between life and death, light and dark.” The wind picked up, and he raised his voice so it continued to carry. “I call to those who do not bow. Who serve no master. Who go as they please and take what they are owed.” He could feel them coming, their curiosity bringing them to see who would dare. “I call to you those from which nothing can be hidden.”

  
Satan could feel them. He could hear their claws click on the pavements. The sounds of their landings on the ledges. They were listening.

  
One voice asked out of the darkness, “What is it you ask of us, Satan?” It was an old voice, that held both the weight of power and wisdom.

  
“I seek what is hidden from Infernal, Celestial and mortal eyes.”

  
“He wishes us to hunt for him?” a feminine voice hissed behind him.

  
“Silence Lia!” the original speaker growled.

  
“I do not ask as a favour, I offer payment,” Satan replied.

  
“Payment? You should know better to use such a word. We cannot be bought or sold.”

  
Satan bowed his head, acknowledging the poor choice of words. “I offer you a tribute and beseech you to find what I cannot. For each who search for my prey, I would gift an extra measure of my wrath for you to inflict on your enemies however you see fit.”

  
“We do not need your wrath, we have much of our own.” The female voice said again.

  
“I said silence!” he male voice boomed. “Or else you will become a victim of his wrath and understand truly how magnificent and deadly it is. Decline his offer on your own and leave, but do not speak for your brothers and sisters.” He turned her attention once more on the demon. “Tell us of your prey, Satan. Why not hunt it on your own? Do you fear it? Is it dangerous?”

  
“Do the answers matter? There is nothing more dangerous than you and yours.”

  
The voice laughed. “Proper answer. Yes, I accept.” The voice then spoke to the assembled creatures. “Those who wish to accept his tribute and accept the hunt enter the circle. Those who wish to leave do so and know you will regret not accepting this gift.”

  
Satan heard some of the creatures pad off into the night, having no interest in his game, but others excitedly crossed into the rune. Close to fifty still stood by him tails lashing with impatience. He opened his eyes and looked upon the most fearsome creations in all the three realms. Cats.

  
Yes, cats. Those assembled were of all breeds, colour, shapes and sizes. So unassuming looking, but they were the only creatures powerful enough to pass into any realm they desired. Nothing could bar them access. They could find any secret. Their eyes see things unseen by all but the most powerful of sorcerers. When a cat wanted something, nothing got in its way. Killing any who tried in their sleep and devouring their flesh from their bones would not disturb a cat’s conscience in the slightest.

  
“First the tribute,” he declared. He raised his hands and chanted for a few minutes and allowed some of his pent up fury to pass from him to the assembled felines. It was not like Satan didn’t have plenty to spare. As they accepted it, their eyes began to glow. The purr that arose through the crowd as almost ecstatic.

  
“Now, here is her scent. I have taken it from the place she is the most vulnerable.” Satan held out a pair of Grace’s underwear, taken from her laundry hamper. One at a time, each cat approached and took a deep sniff of the fabric in his outstretched hand. Slowly they all disappeared into the night, slipping away silently. Well, all except a lone tabby kitten.

  
“Not hunting tonight, Oli?” Satan asked.

  
“No, Gramps is pissed at me. I gotta stay and be your liaison.” Oli said looking up at Satan expectantly.

  
Satan understood and crouched down and picked the kitten up. “What did you do?”

  
Oli wasted no time in crawling up Satan’s arm and making himself at home on the demon’s shoulder. He sighed heavily and answered the question. “I destroyed my human’s left shoe.”

  
“What’s wrong with that?” Satan asked, cleaning up from the ritual.

  
“I was supposed to destroy the right one,” Oli answered. “Gramps said that I’ll never be about to take over the world until I get that right.” The kitten lowered his voice and mimicked the cat that Satan had been negotiating with. “Details, boy! Details! How do you expect to rule the world if you can’t get details right?!”

  
He laughed and ruffled the kitten’s fur and was rewarded for his show of affection by a nipped fingertip.

  
Satan looked out over Devildom. All he could do now was wait. While patience had once been his virtue, as a demon he had little of it now. Find her, he silently urged the hunters in the night. Find her soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So - breaking a spell hurts the person who cast the original spell? But didn't Solomon shatter Grace's invisibility spell in Asmo's chapter?
> 
> Not a plot hole, Satan didn't want to hurt her, Solomon was willing to.


	21. The Cynical Fouth-Born - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satan finds Grace and takes her to the infirmary to tend her wounds

Grace was startled awake by something walking across her body. Four little feet marched their way across her torso leaving a trail of pain. She winced and looked down and saw a calico kitten standing between her breasts. For one moment, she thought it was kinda cute, but then it opened its mouth and shouted. “Hey! Found your human!”

  
As she contemplated the fact that the cat was talking, Satan walked up behind it. “Where?” he asked, eyes moving past her without pausing.

  
The cat shook his head and gave an overly dramatic sigh. “I’m standing right on her. If you reach down, you’ll be able to feel her which should break the spell.”

  
Spell? What spell? Grace suddenly became aware of the familiar feeling of the ’do not see me’ spell along her skin. It was about that time she also clued into the fact that if Satan kept reaching in the direction he was, well he was about to get a handful.

  
“Stop!” Grace shouted, sitting up and backing away from the incoming hand. The good news was that she avoided getting groped. The bad news was that there was now a kitten digging in it claws and hanging onto her breasts for dear life. “I’m awake and I can make it stop.” At least she hoped, she could.

  
She looked down at the cat and tried to pick it up by the scruff of its neck. It swiped at her with its claws and hissed. “I can’t concentrate with you squirming in my cleavage.”

  
It hissed at her and then said sullenly. “You could just ask.”

  
“You’re a cat as if that would have worked!” Grace replied.

  
“Oli, get off her.” Satan’s tone was a mix of polite suggestion and demand. The cat, apparently named Oli, chose to jump to the ground.

  
Free of the distractions of ten tiny claws hooked into her skin, Grace took a few deep breaths and tried to focus. It wasn’t going well. Overwhelmed by a myriad of emotions including fear, exhaustion and extreme anxiety, focus seemed out of Grace’s reach. The fact that Satan was staring in her general direction didn’t help.

  
“Can you turn around?” Grace asked.

  
“Why?” Satan asked.

  
The cat snorted and looked up from grooming itself a couple feet away. “I think she’s got performance anxiety.”

  
Grace shot the cat a dirty look which it ignored and went back to taking its bath.

  
Satan gave half a smile. “I’ll message the others and leave you in peace.” He walked closer to the entrance and started texting.  
It took more than a few tries for Grace to banish her spell. This was not aided by the fact the cat decided to taunt her at random intervals. When she finally succeeded, Grace let off a sigh of relief and opened her eyes. Satan was crouched in front of her. She had not heard him approach at all.

  
“Now, however, did you manage to pull that off?” Satan asked, his green eyes nearly glowed as he looked at her intently.

  
Grace shrugged and immediately regretted it. “Hell if I know. I remember the fight, then it gets kinda hazy and then Mittens there woke me up.”

  
“My name is Oli,” the cat corrected.

  
“Heard you the first time, Fluffy,” Grace muttered.

  
“Come, we should get you looked after. Can you stand?”

  
Satan offered her his hand, and she reached out to take it and snatched it back quickly. “Oh right, the poison. Guess I should try this on my own first.”

  
“Ah yes, its effects were rather spectacular.”

  
Grace slowly got to her feet, but swiftly grew dizzy and had to sit on one of the brick ledges. “Cat’s out of the bag, I guess.”

  
“That statement is racist! It promotes the persecution of my people and is a gruesome reminder of our systematic slaughter!” Oli protested, giving her a dirty look.

  
“Wasn’t talking to you Buttercup,” Grace said. “It was never meant for you or your brothers. You know that, right? I only used it at school.”

  
“Where you had made it quite clear how you felt about casual touching.” Satan nodded.

  
“Though both Mammon and Asmo both had their fair share of close calls,” Grace admitted.

  
They sat in silence for a while. It was one of her favourite things about Satan, he never seemed to need to fill the silence. Even though Grace was sure that he had questions, the air did not have an expectant feel. He was willing to wait for the answers.

  
Grace made a move to stand and Satan watched her carefully. Once she was on her feet he said, “I’m taking you to the infirmary.”

  
She nodded, “Sounds good. A small delay in the interrogation would be nice.”

  
Satan offered her his arm with was protected by his jacket. Grace thought about it for a moment and slipped her arm through his. They walked out of the greenhouse together and left Oli behind.

  
The halls of the academy were dark and silent. In other circumstances, it might have felt eerie, but for Grace, it was a relief. No witnesses other than Satan to see her like this.

  
“So until your classmate almost poisoned you all, how had the test been going?” Satan asked. “I know you had studied hard for it.”

  
“I definitely passed the written. I know that my choices for the practical would have had the desired result but I’m not sure if it would have been the most efficient use of ingredients.”

  
“Tell me about it.”

  
So they discussed potion-making as if it was any other day, and they were sitting in the library. Debating the merits of different ingredients, and preparations, Grace began to relax a little. When they talked like this, it was easy to forget that he was the avatar of wrath.

  
The door to in infirmary was unlocked. Satan helped Grace sit on one of the beds before poking his head in the interior office. Grace looked around the room, like everything in Devildom it looked so similar to home until you noticed the creepy differences. Rows of beds and curtains strung along the ceiling to separate them. However, the supplies tucked in the wall that were foreign. Sure there were still rolls of bandaged, but there was also odd shaped flasks and bottles some filled with liquids that bubbled with no heat and others that just seemed filled with gas.

  
One of the other beds was in use, and Grace was just about to get up to investigate when Satan returned to her side. “It looks like the game got rough, and he’s been called to the field.”

  
Oh, the game. She had totally forgotten about the game. “Ugh, one more thing they are going to hate me for,” Grace said. “Star player misses the game to look for the lost human.”

  
Satan touched her chin, his hand protected by a glove and tilted her face up to look at him. “You need to stop giving a shit what they think.”

  
“Easy for you to say, they don’t want to eat you.”

  
“They might think twice about trying it on you after today.”

  
Even though his touch was firm, she could still lower her eyes to avert her gaze. “That’s right. Today.”

  
“Why do you look sad?” he asked, his voice confused. “You outwitted a demoness with nothing but a handful of herbs and an overpriced body lotion. Own it. Make them stop looking at you like you are prey.”

  
Grace looked up through her lashes at him. “That trick won’t work twice.”

  
“So you’ll find another one,” he said with complete confidence.

  
The way he looked at her made her smile, and his faith in her brought tears to her eyes. Tears that she hastily blinked away because she didn’t want him to see her cry.

  
He gently patted Grace on her uninjured shoulder before going to the shelves and grabbing a few items. “There is no use waiting for him to get back. Let’s at least start treating what we can. I’m going to cut that makeshift bandage of yours off. Don’t worry, I’m sure Asmo would be more than happy to buy you another.” With methodical precision, he started to snip away at the fabric.

  
“Satan?” Grace asked hesitantly.

  
“Yes?”

  
“How do you think Lord Diavolo will punish me?”

  
He set the scissors down on the table next to them. “Why do you think he will punish you?”

  
“For what I did,” Grace whispered. “To Xantara.” It was hard for her to swallow now that the adrenaline was gone what she had done. Theory was one thing but to watch her choking to death, unable to breathe in front of her was different. All the emotions were wild and conflicting. Some were easy for her to comprehend, like the sadness and disgust. Others filled her with fear. Like the fierce glee and satisfaction, she had taken in seeing her enemy brought low.

  
“You worry too much, the rules are much different here. In Devildom some can lose an arm arguing about sports.” Satan said calmly, pulling the blood-soaked fabric away from her skin. “It’s better than I expected,” he commented when the wound was exposed.

  
“But I’m not a demon. I’m human. I don’t know if demonic law protects me.”

  
Satan cocked his head and looked like he was thinking about it. “That could be a problem. Let me think about it. Now, let's get the jacket off.” With his help, they managed to remove it. “Now the blouse.”

  
Grace crossed her arms over her body. “No. I can wait until he gets back.”

  
“Maybe you can, but I don’t think you should. Are you worried that I won’t be a gentleman?”

  
Grace didn’t want to say it out loud. She was feeling so frail already that broaching this subject was likely to shatter whatever semblance of control she had left. However, Satan was wanting an answer. “I don’t want you looking at my body. I don’t even like looking at my body. The idea of you seeing me-“ She couldn’t say the words. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

  
Satan grabbed her chin again. “Look at me, Grace.” She wanted to shake her head again. “Open those eyes.” Grace ignored him and kept them closed.

  
“This body that you seem to hate so much is precious. It is precious and special because it holds you.” He brought his other hand up to lightly stroke her cheek. “It contains a soul so bright and appetizing that everyone wants it. It contains a mind that is clever and quick. It contains a heart that is kind and resilient.” Grace opened her eyes to look at him. The gold flecks in his eyes almost seemed to glow as she stared into them. “I would never define you by your body. It is only one piece of the fascinating creature that is you.”

  
That left her speechless. Her inner voice was screaming at her, that it was lies, terrible beautiful lies. She managed to ignore it. Satan had not falsely complimented the form she knew was flawed, but he hadn’t mocked it either. If he had just spoken lies then they were ones she was willing to believe. Grace nodded to him.

  
Satan smiled, “Good, let me pull the curtains.”

  
As he did so, Grace took a deep breath and slowly unbuttoned the blouse. She closed her eyes again, not wanting to see his face as she did so. She felt so very vulnerable as he helped pull the fabric from her back.

  
“We could do this around the bra, but it would be easier without. Can I unhook it?”

  
She swallowed hard and bravely agreed. It helped that he didn’t make it at all sexual. Satan was just removing an obstacle in the way of treating her. That didn’t mean that she didn’t enjoy the touch of his hand on her back or the way it felt when he moved her hair. But it did mean she didn’t feel the immediate need to hide her nudity.

  
“This salve will both neutralize the poison and clean the wounds. You do the front and I’ll do the back?”

  
He screwed open the lid and set it where they both could reach it. While she hastily spread the cream over the front of her body, he slowly painted on her back being sure not to miss a single spot.

  
“Now that I’ve had a chance to think about it, there is an easy way to have you protected by demonic law.”

  
“And what’s that?”

  
“Form a pact with me. Wait. Before you protest, hear me out. Let me explain it in human terms. When people from two different countries get married, they gain citizenship in their spouse's country. A pact is more binding than that of any human marriage. Instead of symbolically two beings becoming one, you would literally be giving me a piece of your soul and we would be one. Though I would be one that has to obey, isn’t it the other way around in human marriages?”

  
Despite herself, she snickered. “I guess it not a very good deal for you then.”

  
Satan leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Didn’t I already tell you how beautiful and appetizing your soul is?”

  
His voice sent a shiver up her spine. Grace had to remind herself to focus. “Would that really work?”

  
“If Diavolo argues the point then you just demand trial by combat which is the right of any outsider to the realm and choose me as your champion,” Satan said calmly. He started to unroll cut an adhesive bandage for her shoulder.

  
“Satan, not to question your prowess, but I’m not going to ask you to fight Lord Diavolo for me! Are you insane? I mean you are awesome, but he’s the next ruler of Devildom. Also bigger than you.” She turned her head to look at him.

  
“Stay still,” Satan ordered, moving her head back into place. “I want to get this on smoothly.” As he cleanly applied the bandage, he continued talking. “I wouldn’t be fighting Lord Diavolo, only his champion.”

  
“And that’s better?” Grace asked.

  
“Much better, because I would likely have to fight Lucifer.” Grace could hear the glee in his voice.

  
“Would you really fight your brother for me?”

  
“Kitten, I have fought him for far less. Don’t worry, even if Diavolo insisted on this route it wouldn’t be to the death. He values both of us too much to risk losing either.”

  
Satan, having finished tending the bite mark moved down to the puncture on her back. He gently prodded the wound with a finger.  
Grace gave a yelp and pulled away from him. She glared at him over her shoulder. “What kind of girl do you take me for? You need to buy me supper before you get to stick fingers in me!”

  
Satan gave her a mischievous grin. “It’s a date. Where would you like me to take you?”

  
“Not funny,” Grace grumped turning away.

  
“Sorry, I needed to see how deep the wound was and if the bandage would suffice,” Satan explained, smoothing sealing the wound with a bandage. “But it's not a joke. Hell’s Kitchen?”

  
“I don’t like to eat out.” Too many eyes and too many enemies usually made for an unpleasant meal no matter how good the food was. Plus there was always the nagging worry about someone adding extra seasonings.

  
“Trust me, it will be a completely different experience on my arm.”

  
Satan took off his jacket and offered it to Grace who at that point realized two things. One, there was no way that jacket was going to fit over her breasts and two that she was still very much half-naked. With a sad expression, she shook her head. “That’s not gonna work, but I appreciate the offer.”

  
Since there was no way she was putting on any of her bloodied, damaged clothes, Grace had to get creative. “Satan, please hand me that sheet.” Since she really didn’t want to tie anything around her torso, Grace did the next best thing. Taking the scissors from the table, she cut a hole in the centre of the blanket and making it into a poncho. Sure she couldn’t raise her arms too high without flashing anyone, but it was better than the alternatives. “What do you think? Am I fashion icon or what?” she asked with a snort.

  
“You are definitely something,” Satan said with an amused smile. He sat down next to her on the bed. “So have you made up your mind about the pact?”

  
“It seems like I get more out the bargain that you. Which given that you are a demon, means I’m missing a loophole somewhere.” Grace said.

  
“I think you underestimate your worth in far too many ways,” Satan replied, reaching up and gently cupping her face in his hand. “Do you know what it would mean to me for you to give me willingly what the other demons try to claim by force?”

  
“So to use your earlier analogy, I’d be like your trophy wife? You’d be showing off my soul and making everyone jealous?” Grace teased.

  
“Now who’s rushing this relationship? We haven’t even had our first date!” His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Okay, counter offer. You agree to make the pact. You get the ability to command me and I get a piece of your soul plus I get to pick where we go on the date.”

  
Grace knew she shouldn’t agree. This was a bad idea. No matter how many problems it seemed to solve, there had to be a downside. However, looking in his eyes at that moment, she couldn’t deny him. “Yes. I agree to make a pact with you.”

  
“Excellent,” Satan smiled and took her hand in his. “It is traditional to do this with a kiss. May I?”

  
Grace nodded and closed her eyes. She waited for what seemed to be an eternity. Then she felt his breath on her knuckle, then the butterfly light touch of his lips on her hand. It was followed by a sharp quick pain deep inside her, but the pain was easily forgotten by the incredible warmth that followed on its heels. Grace felt like she would never feel cold again.  
It took her a minute to adjust to the feeling, and once she did, Grace let out a breath and opened her eyes. Satan winked at her. “I never said that where the kiss had to be.” While he still clasped her hand, he used his free one to reach out and stroke his thumb along her bottom lip. “These I will only take when you ask me to.”

  
Grace blushed and ducked her head in response.

  
Satan stood from his seat. He seemed to have a renewed sense of urgency and purpose. He pulled open the curtains, and reached back and reclaimed her hand. Gently tugging on her arm, Satan helped her stand. “We should get you home. I know you are exhausted.”

  
Grace allowed him to lead her. However, he didn’t lead her to the door. Satan instead led her to the bed that was curtained off.

  
“We just have one small matter to deal with and I’ll make sure you get home and tucked in.” The tone was light but she could feel the danger in the depths of it. Like knowing there was a shark under your raft even though you couldn’t see the fin.  
He pulled open the curtain and there laid Xantara. “Now what are we going to do about her?”


	22. The Cynical Fouth-Born - Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grace has a hard choice to make regarding her attacker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, warning. Dark, violent, not nice stuff ahead.

Grace stood there in shock for a moment. There was the body. The body of the demoness she killed. She tried to take a step back but Satan’s hand was firm on her arm, giving her no chance to escape. Grace couldn’t say a word, she just looked between Satan and the body on the bed.

  
“Beel wanted to kill her, but I insisted you be given the option to finish the job,” Satan said.

  
Grace blinked, struggling to comprehend what he just said. How could Beel kill her? She’s already dead, right? Right?

  
When Grace moved closer to the bed instead of trying to pull away, Satan loosened his grip. Grace approached Xantara slowly like one might approach a coiled snake, uncertain of when it might strike. She reached out a hand and gently laid it on her chest. She was relieved to feel it move so very slightly with the intake of air.

  
“I didn’t kill her,” Grace whispered. “I thought I killed her.” She sank down into a chair next to the bed.

  
“And how does that make you feel, Grace?” Satan asked, stepping closer to her. His shadow fell menacingly on Xantara’s body.

  
“Relieved, I think,” Grace answered honestly.

  
“And?”

  
“Conflicted. Disappointed. Guilty that I feel disappointed.” Grace looked up at him, “Does that make me a monster?”

  
“Maybe. But you might need to become one to survive here.” Satan replied. “What do you think she is going to do when she heals?”

  
“Leave me alone?”

  
“You don’t sound so sure about that answer.”

  
Grace wasn’t sure about it. Xantara had tried to kill her and had wanted to eat her. Would this near defeat deter her or enrage her? Grace pondered these things and watched the demoness breathe.

  
Satan crouched down and looked her in the eyes. “You have three options, Grace.” He ticked them off on his fingers as he presented them. “One. You show her mercy and let her live. You hope that her defeat is enough of a deterrent to stave off her or others like her from going after you. Two. You finish the job. Personally. This bitch hurt you. Violated you. She tried to devour both your flesh and your soul. By demonic law, you have the right to not only defend yourself but retaliate. Show everyone that you, not me, you are a force to be reckoned with. Three. If you want to keep your hands clean. You can command me to do it for you. It's still a display of power, but does send a different sort of message.” Once more he reached over and tilted her head to meet her eyes. “This is your story, Grace. How did you want to tell it? Are you the victim? Are you the damsel in distress? Or are you a warrior?” Satan then moved her head so that she looked at Xantara’s still body.

  
Grace stood and stepped closer to the bedside. She reached out with trembling fingers to touch her attacker. She stopped before making actual contact. Even though Xantara was helpless in front of her, Grace was still afraid of her. Grace remembered how helpless and small she had felt bleeding, and trying to crawl away.

  
It took great effort, but she finally put her hand on Xantara’s shoulder. Satan just stood at her side and watched, making no comment. Grace moved her fingers slowly, feeling the texture of the demoness’ scales. She followed that line to where she could feel the pulse throbbing under her fingers. Almost without meaning to, Grace laid her hand across Xantara’s throat. Grace stood there for a moment, focussed on the feeling of life under her hand.

  
So quickly that Satan couldn’t predict the move, Grace slapped the demoness. “Wake up, bitch,” Grace said through gritted teeth.

  
“She’s heavily sedated, that might not work,” Satan informed her.

  
Grace didn’t give up. She slapped her a second time, and then a third until Xantara’s eyes fluttered open. At first, her eyes were unfocused but swiftly comprehended the situation. Her frantic eyes bounced between Grace and Satan.

  
“Your toxin did a number on her throat, so I wouldn’t expect her to be too chatty,” Satan commented quietly.

  
“I don’t think I need her to talk,” Grace said. With all the chaos inside her, she marvelled at how calm and still her voice was.

  
“What do you need her to do?”

  
“I don’t know.” She looked down at Xantara, who was trying weakly to move. “Maybe I want her to hurt.” Xantara’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “Oh, you don’t like that idea? I wasn’t very fond of some of your ideas either.” Grace wrapped her hand around Xantara’s throat again, not squeezing just laying it there. A part of her enjoyed the sense of power it gave her. “Especially the bit about the meatloaf. That was just hurtful.” Grace squeezed just a tiny little bit, and Xantara’s eyes grew even wider. “You will never ever have a chance with Beel if meatloaf was the best idea you had. I mean, if you really paid attention, you would know that hamburgers are his favourite.”Grace tightened her grasp further to punctuate the point. Grace watched as Xantara’s eyes fluttered and her hands grasped frantically at the sheets.

  
Grace let go suddenly and looked down at her hand as if it belonged to someone else. She felt sickened at herself for what she had just done. No, if she continued this way, she would end up no better than the monster before her. “No. I can’t do this.” Grace whispered.

  
“Do you need a hand?” Satan asked. He laid one on her shoulder and then slid it all the way along her arm until his fingers laid on top of hers. “She is of reptilian descent. You might not have the hand strength to do it on your own.” He guided her hand back to Xantara’s throat. “I’m yours now.” He whispered in her ear. “Use my strength.”

  
“I spoke wrong. I meant I don’t want to do this.” Grace looked him in the eye. “At this time I choose mercy.” Then she turned her attention to Xantara. “Don’t forget I almost killed you twice today. This is your last chance.”

  
“Foolish,” Satan spat angrily, letting go of her hand. “Look at her Grace. Really look at her. She will not be able to live with this humiliation and will spend the rest of this year trying to make you pay for it. You will have to watch your back every day, wondering when she will strike.”

  
“I choose mercy,” Grace repeated.

  
Satan sighed and released her hand. “It seems you are weaker than I thought,” he said a little disappointed. “Don’t worry I’ll take care of this for you.”

  
“You gave me three options and I choose the first. I’m not killing her and I’m not ordering you to do it.” Grace tugged on his shirt. “Now leave her.”

  
“I can’t do that Grace. In the long run, this is a bad call. I’m just protecting you from yourself.” He turned back toward the bed.

  
“Don’t do this! You have to obey me.” Grace said, reaching forward, pulling on his shirt.

  
“Grace, my dear sweet kitten. Right now, you are like a toddler holding on to the leash of a very big dog with very sharp teeth. The pact gave you the leash and put the collar on me, but you have to have the strength of will to use it. Do you? Can you command me to stop and make it stick? Or will I be pulling you around the playground?”

  
Grace saw him reach down with both his hands, wrapping them around Xantara’s neck. She panicked, fearing for a moment that she really didn’t have it in her. “Satan.” She called his name once, but he slowed not at all. “Satan!” This time she put more force into it. The third time she tapped into the same well of power she used to hide herself when she was scared. “Satan!! I command you to stop.” He looked up, his hands still in place but not tightening further. “You will not kill her unless my life is in immediate danger. Do you understand me?”

  
“Yes,” he replied.

  
“Yes, what?” Grace demanded.

  
He lowered his eyes. “Yes, mistress.”

  
Grace turned and started to walk away. She felt like she was drowning. Her limbs were heavy, but she did her best to hide it from Xantara. She wanted to leave an impression of strength and power behind her.

  
She could hear Satan say in a soft voice to the demoness. “You live today only because my mistress stayed my hand due to mercy. You would be well advised to remember that my brothers are under no such restrictions.”

  
Grace left the room, leaving him behind. She managed to get about three hallways away from the infirmary before she had to sit down. Her eyes were so heavy, but she knew she could not sleep here. She could hear Satan’s footsteps as he came down the hall.  
“You should have waited for me,” he said. He smiled as if nothing was different. As though he had not just attempted to murder someone in her name.”Let’s get you home. You’ve had a rough day.” For the countless time that night, he crouched down next to her.

  
Grace slapped him. “Asshole. I don’t know if I passed or failed your little test back there and I don’t give a fuck. You wanted to see how soft I was, now maybe I should show you how hard I can be.” Grace pooled what little strength she had left and issued one final set of commands. Did he really think he was the only one who could push buttons? Lucifer wasn’t the only demon who suffered from pride and she was about the bruise his. “Satan! You are going to call Mammon. You are going to tell him where we are and you are going to watch him fucking carry me home and tuck me into bed.”  
Then she passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Satan certainly does not get cuddle time with Grace after that.
> 
> Thus concludes Satan's alternate ending. The story of Satan and Grace will be continued Buyer's Remorse  
> 
> 
> Thank you all so very much for the comments. They all mean the world to me with all the crazy going on in the world at the moment.


	23. The Otaku Third-Born - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi is hurt and feels betrayed by Grace, but still tries to find her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Levi is not in a good head space. Mental health warning . . .

Leviathan laid in the bathtub in the centre of his room. The only lights came from the aquarium and the DDD he held in his hands. He kept scrolling through messages. Not the ones, he’d shown to Lucifer but the one in the Seven Lords app. Levi kept looking at the messages she had exchanged with him.

  
Grace was H3NR1. He wanted it not to be true, but the evidence was there in front of his eyes. He even compared the chat logs side by with his own looking for a discrepancy, but no they were word for word accurate. Grace really was H3NR1. His H3NR1!  
For the third time today, Levi threw her DDD across the room. Why hadn’t she told him? Had she been trying to make a fool of him? Was it fun to keep him in the dark? Did Grace make fun of him behind his back to others? Did she tell them things he told her while they played? Leviathan was angry and hurt.

  
He sat there and stewed for a bit, before he got up and retrieved the device from where it fell. This time he had been a little too rough on it and the screen was cracked. He opened her game account and looked at H3NR1’s stat’s. No. She wouldn’t have attempted the speed run on the Cavern of Silence if she was just casual. Nor would she have killed the nine hundred and ninety-nine rabbits needed to make arctic armour so she could fight the optional boss at the top of Glacier Ridge. There was way too much time invested for this to be a practical joke.

  
So why then? Why did she play? Why was her avatar male? Why did she seem to take joy in teasing him in game? Argh. So many stupid questions. Levi wished he didn’t care about the answers, but he did. Dammit, he did.

  
Caring about people suck. It hurts. People could die and leave you alone. Or worse, they could not care about you back.  
That’s why he tried to only care about things. Animes don’t die. Even when they end, they live on in reruns and fan fiction. Games were eternal and repayable. If you struggled with a game there was always a walkthrough out there somewhere. There was no walkthrough with people.

  
Levi set her DDD down on his desk and turned on his computer. He checked his messages, and tried not to think about her. Despite his best efforts, his eyes kept getting pulled back to that cracked screen.

  
She didn’t need his help. His five brothers were out looking for her right now. The brothers that she spent more time with than him. The ones that she liked more than him. Okay, he admitted to himself maybe that last bit wasn’t true. Grace was pretty terrified of Lucifer. So maybe she only like four of them more than him.

  
She spent time with them. She cooked with Beel. She studied with Satan. She walked with Mammon. She let Asmo do her hair. All Grace ever did with him was lie. One finger brought the screen to life again and three taps brought him back to H3NR1’s stat page. Well, lie to him and spend two hundred and ninety-seven hours with him in game.

  
Dammit, even if he was angry at Grace for deceiving him, it would be wrong to abandon H3NR1. Levi wanted answers, and he wasn’t going to get them sitting here. Checking, his DDD first, he made checked to see if anyone else had found her yet. No, of course not. That would be too easy. He was going to have to do this himself.

  
Levi made his way back to campus. After everything he had heard about her injuries, he doubted that she had gotten far. Then why hadn’t they found her? The campus was big but it wasn’t that big.

  
A part of him wondered if she was already dead. No one was talking about that possibility. Maybe she crawled off somewhere and some other demon finished her. There might not even be a body left to find.

  
Levi shook his head. No need to be morbid, at least not yet. His brother’s were good but there were somethings that Levi was better at. He would find her. Sometimes people forgot that he was more than just an otaku shut-in. He was Leviathan, Avatar of Envy, the Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy. It was not some empty title he had unlocked online.

  
Stepping into the academy, he shifted into his demon form. Levi’s tail lashed back and forth eagerly, as he prepared to unleash power he rarely used. Levi made his way swiftly through the halls, to the security room.

  
Diavolo loved human things, and human technology. It fascinated him. This school had magical systems that mimicked most human contraptions and that included a fire alarm and sprinkler system. With a smile he triggered all the sprinklers on the grounds. Now nothing could hide from him.

  
Leviathan closed his eyes and felt the water raining down on his body. With effort he drew out a power he rarely called upon. He had not only been Grand Admiral because of his tactical prowess. No, it was also because water was his to command and when he commanded, it obeyed.

  
As water covered every inch of the interior RAD campus, Levi listened to it, and felt where it fell. Each drop helped create a picture in his mind of the area. His eyes might have been able to be deceived by magic, but the water would not be tricked. Drop after drop, the image of the world around him grew clearer in his, and soon he was able to find her.

  
Levi smiled. It felt good to stretch his muscle after so long. He turned the water off and walked with purpose to where Grace was. She was in the corridor outside the greenhouse. Though he could not see her when he arrived, the water now soaked into her clothes informed him of her exact location.

  
He bent down and touched Grace, and the spell cloaking her dissipated. Levi sank to his knees next to her and touched her face. Grace’s skin was cold to the touch and her lips were a little blue.

  
Suddenly, Levi was bombarded by memories he would rather forget. Pitched battles on the sea. His ships destroying the enemy vessels. The waves he commanded dragging struggling bodies to the ocean floor. Their final breaths bubbling to the surface.  
He shook his head and banished the images. He cupped her face in his hand and ran his thumb along her lips. He could feel her breathe against his skin. No, he hadn’t killed her. This time he’d used his ability to rescue a soul not damn one.

  
Relieved that he had not gone too far, Levi urged the water to flow out of both her clothes and his. Though her clothes were now dry, Grace was still cold and shivering. Levi pulled her into his lap and held her against his body which was still warm. “Don’t get used to this,” he said. “I still like 2D girls better.” Levi sat there with her in silence, gently rubbing her arms to encourage circulation, until she started to stir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly different take then I've seen others do on Levi but I hope you enjoy.


	24. The Otaku Third-Born - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leviathan confronts Grace about her dual identity

When Grace started to wake, she felt arms around her. It had been what she had wished for before the fear and doubt had dragged her down into unconsciousness. To feel safe in someone’s arms. Grace kept her eyes closed because she wanted to hang onto this sensation for as long as possible.

  
“How long are you going to pretend to still be unconscious?”

  
Grace was surprised to hear Levi’s voice. “You came looking for me?” she asked, opening her eyes.

  
“We were all looking for you,” he answered with a frown.

  
Grace bowed her head. Of course, they would be. Lucifer would have ordered it. “How much trouble am I in?” she asked in a quiet voice. “What is Diavolo going to do with me?”

  
“I wouldn’t worry too much about Diavolo,” Levi said, unwrapping his arms from around her. “First, you have to answer to me.”

  
“To you?” Grace asked, confused.

  
“Stand up.” Levi directed, coolly.

  
Worried, Grace did as he asked. She rose from his lap with shaky legs and leaned against the wall. “I don’t understand.”

  
Levi rose to his feet and thrust her DDD at her. It was opened to her Seven Lords page. “You have some questions to answer, Grace. Or do you prefer to be called Henry?”

  
“What are you doing with my phone?” Grace asked, snatching it from his hand. “And what are you doing looking through my messages?”

  
“You were missing, maybe dead. Satan asked me to crack your phone to see if there were clues.” Levi answered. His body language had more confidence than she had ever seen him display. “I answered your question, now answer mine. Why?”

  
“Why what, Levi? Can you be a little more specific?” Grace had never felt uneasy in his presence before, but something in the way his tail was moving definitely made her nervous.

  
“There are so many, I don’t which one to start with. Why a paladin?”

  
She doubted that was the biggest worry on his mind, but was willing to humour him. “Cause I’m living with demons and I thought it was funny. Plus they had the best min/max potential since the Crest-Fallen Emperor expansion. The devs totally should have nerfed that holy water ability.”

  
Levi didn’t really even seem to be listening to her response. His voice grew louder as he asked his next question. “Why a man?”

  
“Cause I don’t want to watch my avatar wander around with unrealistically bouncy tits in armour that covers nothing. Fuck, dude if I didn’t already have body issues that would give me some.”

  
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Levi yelled. Grace had never heard him yell before, not like this. This wasn’t fuelled by frustration at Mammon’s antics, or annoyance when of his party members screwed up. This yell was fuelled by pain. There is was. This was the question he really wanted to be answered. This is what was bothering him. His feelings were hurt.

  
Normally, she would probably have diffused the situation. Grace would have turned her eyes away and apologized. Not tonight though. Tonight, Grace was tired and she was done. For the first time ever, she raised her voice in anger to one of the demon brothers. “Because it wasn’t about you, Levi! This was never about you! This was about me! I needed a place to be me.” She pulled at the bandage, as she continued speaking. “A place that I could tell off someone when they were being an asshole and not have to worry about them literally biting my head off.” She dropped the bloodied scarf to the ground exposing her wounded shoulder. Grace’s voice dropped from a yell to a whisper. “A place where I didn’t need to be afraid.”

  
His eyes widened and he reached out to touch her neck. Grace stepped aside, and his hand touched only the wall instead. “Are you afraid of me?” Now his words were soft too.

  
“The way your tail is whipping back and forth, yeah I’m scared of you,” Grace admitted. “Pretty sure you could skewer me with that thing.”

  
He looked down at his tail like he had forgotten all about it. It looked like he made a conscious effort to calm it down. “But, you can’t be that scared of me. You just yelled at me,” Levi said, sounding a little confused.

  
“Maybe I figure I don’t have that much left to lose. Tell you what Levi, if they execute me I leave you the statue that came with my box set. It’s gotta be killing you that your collection is incomplete.” Grace closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the wall. “Seriously, what’s going to happen to me? What happens when a human kills a demon?”

  
“You thought you killed her?” Levi asked. At first, he looked perplexed and then nodded when things made sense. “Is that why you were hiding? You don’t need to worry about that.” Then he finished cheerfully, “She’s not dead.”

  
Grace’s knees gave out from under her, and she slid down the wall. Not dead. How could two words fuel so much emotion? Relief, disappointment, regret and fear. It all swirled around inside of her. Grace raised a hand to mouth and fought a wave of nausea. “Not dead,” Grace repeated.

  
Levi sat down next to her. “If it makes you feel any better she definitely only had maybe ten HP left. If Asmo hadn’t of found her she probably would have died.” When he talked to her in game jargon, it made her feel like they were talking late in the night while playing. It made Grace feel comfortable even though they are sitting in a cold, damp, dark hallway.

  
They sat in silence for a while. The adrenaline that had fuelled her fir of anger was fading. Grace was almost nodding back off when Levi next spoke. “Did you mean the things you said when you were Henry?”

  
Grace opened her eyes and shook her head a bit, to wake herself up. “That you are an insufferable know-it-all?” Grace said with a small smile.

  
“Not that.”

  
“Well, I did mean that,” she gave him a playful wink.

  
Levi groaned. “That’s not what I meant. Were you real with me as Henry?”

  
Grace thought about it instead of giving him flippant answer. “Yes and no. I was more me as Henry than I was when you would see me at breakfast or at school.” Grace admitted. “But, truthfully the real me is probably somewhere in the middle.”

  
“Sounds like she might be someone I’d like to get to know.” Suddenly he bounced up on his feet. “I have a great idea!”

  
“Oh no, nothing good ever comes of you saying that,” she laughed.

  
“Grace, would you like to join my party?” He then gave a little bow.

  
“Levi, what are you talking about?” Grace asked though he had a suspicion about what he was trying to get at.

  
“Make a pact with me,” Levi said earnestly.

  
“Yeah, no,” Grace said.

  
“Hear me out, this is a great idea,” Levi said again.

  
“Repeating it won’t make it any less crazy.”

  
“I want to get to know the real you and that can’t happen unless you feel safe. As party leader, it would be my duty to keep you safe. If we make a pact you can summon me anytime.”

  
“No. I’m not gonna be some noob you have to shepherd through the level,” Grace said firmly. “I don’t want to hide behind you.”

  
“But you aren’t a noob!” Levi protested. “You are-” He paused and thought about it. He gave the biggest smile when he thought of his answer. “A super important NPC who has a key skill we need at the end of the game!”

  
Grace couldn’t help but laugh at his analogy. Okay, Levi’s idea wasn’t the absolute worst idea in the history of ever, but it was pretty flawed. “One, all of this would involve you leaving your room. Two, I think you have it backward. I’d have to be party leader, cause you’d have to obey me. Three, not sure I want to give you a piece of my soul.”

  
“Come on, at least you know I’d treat it right. You know all my collectables are in pristine condition. Plus, I know how valuable it is. It’s even more precious than my Ruri-Chan wedding dress statuette with the diamond heels.”

  
Grace shook her head. “Seriously Levi, why? This isn’t like you. You don’t engage with people. If Lucifer hadn’t made threats about cutting off the Wifi, you would be still doing your classes online.”

  
It got quiet between them again. The silence lasted long enough that Grace was beginning to think that he had dropped the idea. The damp air was given her a chill again, and she was starting to stiffen up. It was time to face the music. “We should go back.”

  
“Grace, can I tell you the truth?” Levi asked, his voice sounded different. It had lost all of its forced exuberance.

  
“Even when the truth hurts I like it better than sweet lies,” she answered.

  
“Once I found out who you were, I was really mad. Even though you were a pain in my ass online, that time was special to me. I looked forward to it. To find out that I was sharing you with all of them-” His voice had started to get a little heated, but he paused to calm it down. “It made me jealous. On top of all the other reasons I gave you, I guess the most important reason is that making a pact with you would make me special to you.”

  
“You don’t need to make a pact with me to be special to me,” Grace said. “You already are special.”

  
“I want to,” Levi said solemnly. “So I’ll ask you again, will you please join my party?”

  
“Even if it puts you in conflict with Lucifer?” she asked.

  
“Yes.” His orange eyes held no doubt.

  
Grace wished she felt that certain, but the idea of putting this level of trust in any being, let alone a demon was very scary. She had gotten this far without someone in her corner, hadn’t she? Then she reached up and touched her shoulder, remembering how near a thing it was.

  
“Please?” he asked.

  
“Okay,” Grace agreed. He beamed like he had won a prize. “But, remember, I’m officially the party leader, right? You obey my commands.”

  
Levi gave her a little salute. “Do you prefer sir or ma’am?”

  
“Grace is fine,” she laughed. “Unless you misbehave.”

  
Levi gave her a mischievous smile. “Sounds like fun.”

  
“Don’t make me change my mind, Levi,” Grace cautioned. “How does this work?”

  
“Well, normally it’s done with a kiss,” Levi said with a little bit of a blush. “But, I don’t know if-“

  
Grace grabbed his uniform’s tie and pulled him close softly pressing her lips to his. Grace felt something shift inside her, like the waves pulling sand into the sea. There was a moment of loss, but the tide came back in and filled that emptiness with something else. It was a strange feeling, but not unpleasant. When Grace opened her eyes, she could see that Levi was blushing. “I’m sorry,” she apologized, realizing that maybe he hadn’t wanted to do it that way.

  
“No!” he protested. “Don’t be sorry. You just surprised me, that’s all.”

  
They looked at each other awkwardly for a moment. Then Levi broke into frantic speech. “Shit, I’ve been such a dick. We need to get you taken care of. Do you think you could walk to the infirmary? Or do you want me to carry you?”

  
“Maybe we should just go back to the house. I doubt anyone is still here.” Grace answered.

  
Levi helped her to her feet. “I happen to know that the healer is staying on campus overnight to watch another patient. So, walk or carry?”

  
“Let me try walking first, kay?” Grace asked. “I think I can manage it if you don’t mind me leaning on you.”

  
“Please do,” Levi replied. “In fact, feel free to come to me first for anything.”

  
As Levi helped Grace to the infirmary, she never saw the slightly smug expression on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more part to come. I feel its important to get his perspective on this.


	25. The Otaku Third-Born - Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi takes Grace to be cared for and takes care of a problem along the way.

As Levi walked Grace to the infirmary, he reflected on what just happened. At first, he had just wanted to unload all the anger and pain he had been feeling on her. Really let her have it. Then, she had yelled at him. Just the way she would have if he’d done something in game to piss her off. That moment had driven home, that it really just hadn’t been some trick on her part.

  
Grace had chosen to show her a side of herself that he had never shown any of the others in those late-night gaming sessions, and texts back and forth that none of the others had seen. It was something she had given him, not anyone else. At that point, his anger had found a new target, especially after seeing the small chunk torn out of her shoulder. His friend had been living in fear all this time. His friend had been hurt and something had to be done about it. Levi had to make sure that never happened again.

  
Levi knocked on the infirmary door, and the demon who had been manning it earlier answered the door. “What?” it demanded in an annoyed voice.

  
“My friend needs your help,” Levi said with a polite smile but demanding eyes.

  
“Oh, you are the human, right?” the healer asked, looking at Grace. “I’ve been dealing with your handiwork all afternoon.”

  
Grace lowered her head and looked a little ashamed.

  
“None of that, by the looks of you she deserved it. Let’s get you fixed up.”

  
Grace allowed herself to be led to one of the beds.

  
“I’ll be right here if you need me,” Levi said as the healer pulled the divider. He stayed outside to give her privacy. At least that was one of the reasons, he chose to stay on this side of the curtain. The other reason was lying sedated on another bed.

  
Levi moved aside the barrier. There she was. Xantara. Breathing shallowly, and resting peacefully. He frowned, she didn’t deserve to be resting peacefully. Not after what she had done. Some of his brothers would probably handle this with a grand gesture. Lucifer would likely want Xantara to live as an object lesson to the others. Mammon and Beel would probably beat her senseless in front of witnesses, ensuring no student doubted their stance on her well being again. Levi felt this situation required a softer touch, a more subtle approach.

  
He smiled coldly and lightly touched her face. Though sedated, she leaned into his touch. Levi chuckled, perhaps one of his brothers had already tried the subtle approach. He remembered the way Asmo had sat so near her bedside, casually stroking her arm. Levi silently congratulated him on his originality and execution, however, this was not enough of a punishment in Levi’s eyes.

  
Grace wanted a place where she didn’t have to be afraid and the easiest way to make that happen was to make them afraid of her. Really, if Asmo wouldn’t have intervened, Xantara would have died of her wounds. Levi just wanted to make things right. Levi closed his eyes and extended his senses. As he figured there was already a lot of fluid sitting heavy in her lungs, it didn’t take much of a push for him to shift just a little more there. If the healer didn’t catch it, at the rate the fluid was building up, Xantara would drown in her sleep tonight.

  
Levi left the demoness’ bedside and leaned against the wall. He smiled as he pulled out his DDD and entered the group chat.

 **LEVI:** Found Grace. She’s pretty beat up but with a healer now.  
 **SATAN:** Not sure what’s more surprising. You leaving your room or you finding her.  
 **BEEL:** Now is not the time to be an asshole, Satan. Levi, how bad is it?  
 **MAMMON:** Where U at?

Levi snorted. As if he was going to tell Mammon where she was.

 **LUCIFER:** I’ll inform Lord Diavolo.

Levi could see Lucifer attempt to type something and then change his mind. He finally settled on three simple words.

 **LUCIFER:** Good job Levi.

It had been a very long time since Lucifer had paid him a compliment. Levi wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Luckily for him, the healer pulling back the curtain provided the perfect excuse to type a quick goodbye to his siblings. He put the DDD in his pocket. “How is she?”

  
“Doing miraculously well considering the circumstances. I’ve given her something for pain and she’s asleep. I recommend she stay here the night. I mean its no trouble, I’ll be here keeping an eye on Xantara.”

  
“I think she will rest better in her own room. You know, without the person that tried to kill her mere feet away.” Levi said firmly. “I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”

  
“If you think that’s best.” The demon paused and asked an odd question. “Leviathan, was I the first to treat the human?”

  
“Yes, why do you ask?” Levi questioned, tilting his head in curiosity.

  
“The wounds are more healed than they should be.”

  
He tucked that bit of information aside for later. Giving the demon a bright smile, Levi shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you. I’m just glad she’s gonna be okay.”

  
Grace was wrapped in a blanket, and Levi just tucked that around her more firmly before picking her up. She made a little whine in her sleep but settled swiftly. Levi smiled as she nestled into his chest. He thanked the healer and headed home. He enjoyed the walk in the night air, and the weight of Grace in his arms. He hummed happily, knowing tonight he got something very special. She was his, by her own choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a super crazy exciting chapter but wanted to glimpse a little of what was going on under all the super cute geek speak last chapter. Levi is like the water he controls. He has dangerous hidden depths.
> 
> This end Levi's alternate ending. As with the others, to be continued in a new story. Title will be noted here and in story summary once I've begun it. 
> 
> And I literally cannot thank you all enough for the supportive comments and the kudos and the bookmarks. It makes my day so very much brighter and gives me the confidence to keep writing.


	26. The Scummy Second-Born - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mammon thinks outside of the box (and Devildom) to find a way to find Grace.

Even Mammon knew his plan was probably a bad one, but it was the only one he had. It had been hours now and no one, not any of his brothers who were in their own words, smarter and better than him, had found Grace. It hurt him that she was out there alone somewhere in pain. It hurt him even more that she hadn’t come to him for help.

He slipped his stolen skeleton key into his pocket. Mammon had been banned from using the portals to earth realm, but he had this baby and had been saving it for an emergency. Finding his human definitely counted as that. He stepped away from the portal and onto the sidewalk. Mammon smiled his usual cocky grin and slid on his sunglasses. He walked down the street as though he owned it and could feel the hungry eyes on women follow him. He ignored them, as there was only one human whose eyes he wanted looking at him. His human. Those twilight eyes could look at him with scorn, hate, or mockery as long as they looked his way again.

His destination was a club. Mammon could hear the music from quite a distance and feel the beat through the soles of his boots once one block away. There was a long line, but that would not be a problem for him. Mammon walked up to the entrance and looked at the bouncers daring them to stop him. A part of him almost wished they would, as he would love to hit something right now.

Humans were smarter than most demons gave them credit for or at the very least had a decent survival instinct. The bouncers sensed the danger in him and knew they were outmatched. They let Mammon pass, with no incident. He stepped into the crowded club, the music and the writhing bodies on the dance floor called to him briefly with their siren song. Then he pictured those eyes, and crossed to the edge of the floor and climbed a set of spiral stairs that led up to the VIP section.

“Mammon,” A female voice purred in greeting. Her voice dripped of sin and promised all sorts of delights both wonderful and terrible. “I don’t remember summoning you.”

“Selene,” Mammon greeted. She comfortably lounged on a soft couch from which she could easily watch the press of bodies below. She had long black hair, and dark brown eyes flecked with gold. Her dress was the red of freshly spilled blood and she wore the same shade on her lips. If he didn’t know better, Mammon would think she was a demon, but no, she was mortal. It didn’t make her any less dangerous though. Selene was a witch. “Luna? Did you summon Mammon?”

A hand touched Mammon’s shoulder and then slid down his arm. Lips touched his cheek lightly, “No, but I am happy to see him. It’s always a good time when Mammon comes to visit.” Luna crossed into view. She looked exactly like the gorgeous woman already sitting before him. Luna joined Selene on the couch, stretching out the long length of her tanned perfect legs. “Chandra?”

“No.”

The third sister was lurking in the shadows before him and Mammon felt ashamed he hadn’t spotted her sooner. He needed to pay better attention than that. He had a pact with these three and he knew how very dangerous they could be.

Her eyes looked to his hand and she arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “Are book bags the new hot accessories down in Devildom these days?”

While his grip tightened on the straps of the bag, Mammon clenched his teeth.

“Ooh, sisters, it seems I’ve touched a nerve.” Chandra was also identical to the two already on the couch. She joined them and leaned on the arm. “Tell us Mammon, why have you come to us without being summoned.”

“You three owe me, and it’s time ta pay.” They had once asked him for something outside the bounds of their pact, and he’d allowed in exchange for a future favour.

“I’m pretty sure he’s not asking for money, since that’s what we use him for,” Selene commented.

“Definitely not,” Luna agreed.

“What do you need Mammon?” Chandra asked.

“A human’s lost in Devildom, and I need ya ta find her,” Mammon answered.

Three exchanged a glance and there seemed to be silent communication between them. The sisters broke into laughter simultaneously. “That is what you wish to exchange your boon for?” Luna said.

“Never mind. Ya three are useless, the greatest demons in Devildom can’t do it, why would I think you hags can.” Mammon said, forcing himself to be casual. He knew better than to let them see how much he wanted something. He started to turn away from them.

“Wait…” Mammon wasn’t sure which one spoke. “We never said we couldn’t do it. Just seemed to be an odd request.”

“Do you have something that belongs to this human?”

“Of course he does, why else would he hold that hideous bag as though it was made of gold?”

Mammon turned back toward them. All three sisters looked at him with eager eyes.

“Well give it here,” Luna gestured with her hand.

Mammon opened the bag and looked down at the contents. Her books. Her homework. The compact he’s given her as a gift. His fingers tightened around that briefly. Mammon could feel the decorative engraving against his palm. No. He didn’t want these witches touching that. Mammon dug a little deep and found her hairbrush. He pulled a few loose strands from it. “This will work, right?”

“Excellent,” Chandra purred. She rose from her perch and approached him. Even though he knew better is was hard not to react to the way she advertised sex and danger with every step. She extended her hand to him and he dropped the strands onto her palm. She closed her hand to prevent those few precious hairs from disappearing with the slightest breeze. She returned to the couch and sat with her sisters.

The other two laid their hands over hers. They whispered an incantation, and their eyes started to glow red. He could fee the power of their magic even from the distance he kept. There was a moment when the whole world seemed to pause. Everything, The music, the dancers, just stopped. But it was for one sole heartbeat and then it resumed as though it had never stopped at all.

“Your human, Grace is it?” Luna said with a friendly smile. “She’s in the greenhouse. That girl has potential but if she doesn’t train in, this will be the least damage she does.

“Liar!” Mammon argued. “Been searched, least three times.”

Chandra chuckled. “Silly thing turned herself invisible. She’s curled up near the Angel’s Trumpet. One touch should reveal her.”

“Invisible?” Mammon questioned. Grace didn’t do magic, but then Grace also wasn’t supposed to be making poison in her spare time either. “Ya better not be lying to me,” Mammon threatened.

Selene rose from the couch and approached him. “Now don’t be making threats that you can’t carry out. You have a pact with us. While it is possible that you The Great Mammon you could get one of us, I doubt you could manage all three.”

“Be nice Selene, there are definitely some situations he could handle all three,” Luna said winking at him.

Mammon said nothing and turned away from them.

As he started to walk away, one of them called after him. “Mammon? What if we could make it so you never lost her again?”

“A talisman that lets you always know where she’s at?”

“How she feels?”

All three sisters joined forces to tempt him.

If he had been able to know how she felt, he would have known much sooner that something was wrong. Mammon could have kept her safe. His fragile, stupid, precious, little human.

“We could make it with their hair!”

“A bracelet.”

“It would be so beautiful, all intertwined. “

“And we could protect the hair and the magic with gold.”

“Yes. Both white and yellow gold.”

Mammon stopped after only descending two steps. He knew he should keep walking but the idea. Oh the idea, was so tempting. To never lose track of her again, to always know she was okay. “Ya wouldn’t be offering me that for free.”

“Of course not.”

Mammon turned. In the back of his head, a tiny voice screamed at him to walk away, but the idea of a pretty shiny bauble that solved all his problems. “What would you want?

Luna blinked at him and grinned wide. “Ooh, your seed!” She clapped her hands excitedly.

“Ya wanna have sex with me?” Mammon asked. That wasn’t such a big deal. Hell, he’d drop his pants right now, if that’s what it took.

Chandra laughed. “Well, that would be part of it.”

Mammon thought about it for about a half a second. Hell, yeah he’d fuck them. “Sure.” He shrugged. “Now?”

Selene was the one that answered. “No, not right now. We need to make it a very special night. You are the Great Mammon, after all.”

Luna pouted a little, “But, surely we could have a little taste, now?”

“No sister,” Chandra said firmly. “He has his human to take care of tonight and we shouldn’t keep him any longer than necessary. We will make him his talisman swiftly and summon him for payment when the time is right.”

Being the nearest to Mammon, Selene reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, gently tugging out a few strands. “Go downstairs and wait. We will bring it to you shortly.” She pushed him gently toward the stairs.

Mammon started down the stairs. He paused and glanced over his shoulder. All three witches giving him identical Cheshire cat grins. Mammon had a feeling he should have read the fine print.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeay! Mammon finally gets some time.
> 
> July 5 update:
> 
> Writing is a form of stress relief and self care. I will bounce between the different character timelines writing what I can and am able to at the time. No set update schedule or pattern though usually multiple updates weekly.
> 
> Yes I am aware that Mammon and Lucifer's endings are not done. They are not abandoned, but yes currently on the back burner.


End file.
